Fractured
by R. E. Lyngard
Summary: Sequel to Tumult. The Series 5 Rangers are assigned to a peacekeeping mission on Ryman IV, but the Queen of the Crown has other plans as she plots to capture the Galaxy Rangers and fill her psychocrypt at the same time
1. Chapter 1

**Synopsis: **Sequel to Tumult. The Series Five Rangers are assigned to a peacekeeping mission on Ryman IV, a planet ravaged by civil war for almost a decade. But the Queen of the Crown has other plans as she sees her plans to capture the Galaxy Rangers and fill her Psychocrypt at the same time come to fruition.

**Fractured**

**Chapter One**

**0737 – BETA Mountain – Recreation Facility**

**167 - 2105**

Entering through one of the double doors to the gym, Ranger Walter Hartford, affectionately known as Doc, paused in surprise. He was being treated to a sight he had never seen.

There on the main sparring mat stood Ranger Niko, intently assaulting a hanging bag that had apparently offended her immensely judging from the swaying of the apparatus after the sharp report of another hard blow rang out. Not that finding his auburn-haired colleague working out was unexpected. All of the Series 5 Team exercised on a routine basis. He was currently in the gymnasium for the very same thing, albeit fencing not boxing.

What startled the ranger was the way in which Niko was training. She was engaged in a very physical attack rather than her usual martial arts choreographed routine, which centered mostly on deflective, self-defense oriented maneuvers. In addition, instead of her usual flowing locks, Niko's long henna hair was pulled into of all things a ponytail. In all of the years he had known the ranger, he had never seen her do that.

Realizing that he was staring, Doc decided to announce his presence. "Hey, Niko, the heavy bag not like the new do?" The only reply he received was a non-committal grunt as the female ranger continued her offensive without missing a beat.

_Okay then,_ Doc thought to himself briefly. Perhaps, the other ranger's vacation had not gone as well as expected. "How was your leave?" he tried again.

"Fine," Niko answered succinctly as she leveled another kick at the bag.

"And, the Aurus Exhibit in New Dallas?" Doc prompted trying to get some clarity on her unusual mood. He was used to the occasional brush-off from Gooseman but not Niko.

"Don't know," came the unexpected reply as the woman continued to hammer the apparatus with strike after strike. Niko paused her attack when she saw the puzzlement on his face and elaborated, "I didn't go."

"To New Dallas or the exhibit?" Doc asked even more confused.

Niko stepped away from the boxing equipment and sighed. "The exhibit," she clarified and wiped the sweat off her face with a towel.

"But, why? Was is closed?"

"Nope," Niko answered and stepped off the mat and started toward the door. "Just, didn't want to."

"Didn't want to?" Doc's voice rang with incredulity. Going to the exhibit had been all she had talked about on the return trip from Arkansas2. Doc reached out a hand to keep his friend from leaving without more of an explanation. But, quickly removed it when Niko made a sound.

_Did she just growl at me?_

Niko's eyes flashed an unreadable emotion at Doc's touch and returned quickly to neutral as soon as the other ranger removed his hand from her wrist. "Room's all yours. Well, yours and Goose's," she amended as she stepped around another of the Series 5 Rangers.

"Something you said?" Shane Gooseman asked as he watched the quickly retreating form of the female ranger.

"I don't think so," replied Hartford still perplexed about the whole weird conversation that he had had with Niko. "Have you noticed anything different about Niko lately?"

Gooseman's eyes narrowed at Doc momentarily, "I assume you're not talking about the ponytail."

"Well, no, I mean that is obviously different. I mean _different _different."

Shane made his way to the bench press and started stretching. "Want to try that again?"

"I don't know. I mean, she hasn't really been herself especially since Arkansas2."

Goose began attaching various weights to the bar in preparation for his workout. "That last mission was hard on her," he agreed finishing the weight distribution and sliding onto the bench. "I was a little surprised to see her this morning, though. Her leave doesn't end until this afternoon."

"You should have seen her when I first got here."

Shane began lifting and pushing the bar. "What do you mean?"

"I told you she wasn't acting like herself. She was going at the punching bag pretty hard."

"That is different," Goose acknowledged finding his rhythm.

"Yeah, and when I tried to talk to her for a moment, well, she acted…hmm, she acted, well…like you."

Goose didn't even flinch at the assessment. He just kept pumping. "Which means," he prompted.

"She was evasive, distracted, irritable, and if I'm not mistaken, angry."

The use of one of the words caused Shane to momentarily pause his pumping tempo while he pondered Doc's characterization of their female companion. "Angry," he repeated once again lifting the weights. "What exactly did you say or do to set her off, Doc?"

"That's just it. I didn't do or say anything. I simply asked her how her vacation had been and what she thought of the Aurus Art and Archeological Exhibit in New Dallas, the one she's been talking about going to ever since our leaves were reinstated."

"And, did she enjoy it?"

"She didn't go, Goose."

That statement made Shane rack the bench press bar and sit up. "She didn't go."

"Said she didn't _want_ to go."

Goose pulled out a towel and dried his face and the seat of the bench. He had been humoring Doc about Niko's supposedly strange behavior, but suddenly, he wasn't so sure.

"That isn't the only thing, Goose," Doc continued worry tingeing his voice. "When I went to stop her to get more information, she…" Hartford stopped trying to come up with words to explain what happened when he had touched the female ranger.

"She what, Doc?"

"She snarled at me. Wait," Doc held up his hand to stop the dismissal he saw forming on Gooseman's lips. "I'm serious, here. When I touched her arm, she went wild for a second. I've never seen that look in her eyes. I'm serious when I use the word 'snarl', Goose. That is not an embellishment. When I backed off, it was like nothing had happened. She just left."

Gooseman looked at the chronometer on his wrist. He had two hours until he was to report for duty. "I'll go talk to her."

Doc looked toward the gymnasium door that opened and nodded to the female technician that entered. "Do you want company?" he asked Gooseman. "I can tell my fencing partner that something came up." He angled his head toward the newcomer.

"No, one of us should at least get a decent workout in and given what you said happened, I'd probably be better off alone."

"All right, my Gooseman, but if you change your mind…"

"I know exactly where to find you," Goose finished and headed out the door.

**1407 – BETA Mountain – Series 5 Base Office **

**167 - 2105**

Gooseman tapped the end of his pen impatiently against the file folder sitting open on his desk. After he had had his disturbing conversation with Doc, he had gone to Niko's quarters, but no one had answered his knock. He had searched for her briefly in the commissary, and then on a hunch, he had tried the cafeteria. With no luck at any of those locations, Goose had finally given up and gone to his own quarters to get ready to go on duty.

He had had several hours to himself to ponder over Doc's description and his own concerns about the changing nuances in Niko's personality. He had decided that approaching her in the office, somewhat neutral ground, might be for the best. But now, she was late, only a few minutes, but late nonetheless, and Niko was never late.

"You're late," the super trooper stated flatly keeping himself from looking directly at the door as it opened.

"Yes, I am," Niko agreed sliding into her office chair and turning on her computer to retrieve her messages.

They sat in silence for a few moments, Goose glancing from the file to Niko and back down, and Niko continuing to go through mail and messages. There were no pleasantries exchanged no friendly banter, just an uncomfortable silence. Niko hadn't even inquired where the other two rangers were.

"Are you just going to sit there and stare at me all shift?" Niko finally asked Goose without so much as glancing in his direction.

"Noticed you changed your hair," Shane offered.

Niko unconsciously raised a hand to the braid running down her back. "And, that's why you keep staring at me?"

"No," Goose flashed her a mischievous grin, "I'm appreciating the fact that I can stare at you rather than at Doc's ugly mug."

In spite of herself, Niko smiled back. "I'm not buying it, Goose. You've been talking to Doc; haven't you?"

"Guilty as charged," Shane admitted and leaned across their shared desk to capture her gaze before it fell back to mundane correspondence. "He's worried about you."

Niko pulled back slightly at Shane's closeness. "Speaking of Doc, where is he and the captain?"

Before Goose could answer or call her on changing the subject, the door to the office opened and Ranger Hartford entered looking very rumpled and absolutely miserable. "What happened to you?" Niko asked as he flopped into his office chair and dropped his head into his hands.

"Q-Ball," came the muffled reply.

Niko glanced at Gooseman and mouthed, "Q-Ball?"

"That bad?" Gooseman asked Doc ignoring Niko's question.

"Can you say, programs hopped on the electronic version of speed doing karaoke?"

"Did your CDU get a virus?" Niko speculated.

"Worse. I've just spent most of my shift with the portable recharging unit."

Captain Zachary Foxx chose that moment to enter into the Series 5 office. "I take it that there has been no progress," he stated coming into the conversation late.

"Do I look like I've made progress?" Doc asked him sarcasm dripping in his tone.

"Okay, listen up, people," Zachary said ignoring Doc and moving on to why he was there. "I just came from Commander Walsh, we've got another assignment. We are going to be escorting the presiding dignitaries for the Second Annual Peace Summit on Ryman IV."

"Babysitting again?" Gooseman growled.

"I know it sounds like that, Goose," Zach acknowledged, "but each of the council chairs have received warnings from anonymous sources encouraging them not to attend. These threats have already been acted upon with one of the original six murdered in his home."

"They're sure it's related to the summit?" Niko asked.

Zachary stopped and looked at the female ranger. He was slightly taken back by her changed hairstyle but recovered and replied. "Yes. An additional warning was written on the body to deter the other council members from attending."

"On the body?" Doc wasn't sure that he had heard correctly.

Rather than repeat the gruesome fact, Foxx simply nodded. "Our orders are to accompany the remaining five council members to Ryman IV and see to their safety. The Rymeans are new to the League of Planets but they have made great strides, halting a civil war that prior to League involvement had been burning for over a decade. This summit will be the continuance of those overtures of peaceful relations."

"Now, I remember," Niko said snapping her fingers. "The unrest is between those who possess psychic powers and those who do not."

"That's right."

Niko frowned as she remembered more facts about the causes of the political tensions. "Captain, are you sure that I should be part of this mission? An addition of another psychic might cause more tension."

"Actually, Niko," Zachary responded, "I think, the opposite may be true. The Commander is hoping that showing how we interact as a team with various abilities might be helpful in continuing the peace negotiations."

"You and Gooseman will be ambassadors as well as protection for the assembly members who are psychically gifted. Doc and I will be handling the remaining two members. The whole council assembly has a formal dinner tonight at 1900 hours in the new BETA Hydroponics Conservatory and then leaves for Ryman IV. We are to make introductions during the dinner and leave with the members when their ships are ready to depart. Formal attire is required for the dinner."

Zachary caught the grimace exchange between Goose and Doc upon the mention of formalwear. "Cheer up you two. At least dress uniforms are only required through dinner and not the entire summit."

"Oh, and one more thing," Foxx continued as he made his way out of the office, "the main recharge platform is down for repair. We're going to have to use the portable unit before and if necessary during the mission. So, make sure that you give yourselves enough time to let those bugs that haven't been worked out yet wear off. We certainly don't need to make that kind of an introduction to the Rymeans."

A trio of groans was heard as the office door closed behind the captain.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

**2100 – BETA Mountain Hydroponics Conservatory**

**167 - 2105**

Excusing herself from her conversation with S'Kara, the only female council member of the psychically gifted Rymeans, Niko slowly walked to an unoccupied area in the Hydroponics Conservatory. She had a splitting headache from the amount of energy she had exerted just to keep her mental shields in place throughout the long, diplomatic dinner.

The Rymeans gifted with extrasensory powers either did not know how or did not wish to limit their focus, often brushing thoughts of others with or without permission or broadcasting thoughts without any barriers in place. If Niko let her guard down at all, she was immediately assaulted by the cacophony of mind clutter. All night she had fought the urge to use her implant as a buffer against the constant psychic banter playing around her. Even distancing herself from the group helped only minimally, she could still feel her hand itching to trigger her badge.

The concept of free flowing psychic energy was foreign to her. On Xanadu, the gifted took great pride in the control of their abilities, training for years and years to perfect mental shields and constantly guarding against intruding on the privacy of others. On Ryman IV, it appears that no such cultural mores had been created probably due to the persecution of those possessing psychic gifts.

As the Rymeans evolved, a dichotomy was created between those with and those without mental powers. Unfortunately, depending on where one found himself or herself, those without were the ones who were in power both financially and politically. To protect themselves from a growing minority, those in power enacted numerous social policies. First was segregation of living accommodations and certain employment opportunities. These policies were then quickly followed by downgrading civil rights based on the level of one's psychic talents and finally by the prevention of procreation by any gifted person. These courses of action eventually led to the ostracism and eventual governmental sanctioned elimination of empaths, clairvoyants, telepaths, mediums, telekinetics, or anyone else born with intuitive powers.

The sound of laughter shook Niko out of her reverie. The council and BETA representatives were laughing at a vivid description Doc was giving about a recent mission. Everyone seemed at ease and entertained.

For a moment, Niko studied the ornate headpieces decorating three of the Rymeans. According to K'Baron, the eldest of the Rymeans, the headbands were created toward the end of the civil war to keep telepaths and empaths out of unprotected minds and bodies safe from telekinetic attacks. The ornate jewel centered in the middle of the tiara that pressed against the wearer's forehead could disperse psychokinetic energy fields creating a personal mental shield of sorts. Although the feedback of one of those devices would likely kill her, Niko could not help but envy the machine that had the ability to neutralize the constant psychic energies emanating from the gifted Rymeans.

"A credit for your thoughts," Gooseman's soft voice whispered next to her ear.

Niko jumped as the hairs on the back of her neck prickled at Shane's nearness. "You can have them for free," she retorted recovering, "not that they'd be worth that much."

Shane leaned his back and elbows against the banister that separated the walkway from some of the more water loving plants and regarded his colleague. She had been unusually quiet all evening long, and he could see fatigue staining her eyes. At least, she had gone back to wearing her hair long again no new and different hairstyles this time. "So, what's got you so preoccupied? I can't remember the last time I was able to sneak up on you."

Niko sighed and glanced back to the dinner party that was starting to wrap up. "It's been a little difficult being near the intuitive Rymeans for long periods of time," she admitted hesitantly. "They don't have any barriers, Shane. It's like everything they think or do is being broadcasted to any sensitive person within range. I have to constantly shield myself from their mental ramblings as well as keep a tight reign on my own mind."

"Maybe you should tell the captain," Shane suggested. "He could reassign you to the other ship where you wouldn't…"

"I can do my job, Goose!" Niko snapped irritably. "I don't need to be coddled by you and the others."

"Whoa. Back-up. I have never questioned your abilities. But if you are going to be taxed to this extreme just during a simple dinner party, then you owe it to us and yourself to report it to the captain."

"I'm not…I'm…I'm sorry," Niko relented. "I'll talk to the captain, but I don't think reassignment would be in the best interests of this mission. The non-prescient Rymeans have come a long way in the peace negotiations, but old preconceptions rise quickly. I don't think that they are ready to welcome a psychic, even one with Galaxy Ranger credentials, onto their ship."

"Let the captain make that call," Goose advised pushing away from the banister and standing at greater attention as Zachary and Doc approached.

"Let the captain decide what?" Foxx asked looking at Niko and then to Gooseman.

"Captain," Niko said formally, "could I have a word with you?"

"Certainly," Zachary replied walking next to Niko as she headed toward a more private area of the garden.

"So, my Gooseman, you and Niko have that chat yet?"

"Never got the chance to get into it," Goose replied falling back into his earlier pose against the banister. "She's very adept at being evasive when she wants to be."

"So, I've noticed," Doc agreed emulating his colleague's stance. "Problems?" he asked watching the distant conversation between Niko and Zachary.

"Not sure yet."

**2350 – Aboard Rymean Ship – K'Lathia**

**167 - 2105**

Niko shoved the tangle of auburn hair from her face and pushed off the bunk of her temporary quarters. Sleep had been eluding her since they embarked from BETA a little over an hour ago. It wasn't that she wasn't tired. She was exhausted. But every time she closed her eyes and began to relax alien thoughts and noises would enter her subconscious.

While the Rymean delegation was finalizing their itineraries with BETA Mountain, she and Zachary had discussed her dilemma at great length and in more detail than she truly felt comfortable. However, she had taken Goose's advice to heart. The last thing she would ever want to be is a liability. In the end, Zachary had agreed that her assessment of the non-gifted Rymeans was on target and that a transfer of a psychic to the other ship would be ill advised. However, he had made her promise that if the situation became exigent she would inform him. He also gave authorization for her to utilize her implant if necessary to bolster her defenses and placed the portable recharging unit in her custody.

Sitting in the darkened room broken only by the light stream of hyperspace behind tinted portals, Niko wondered if her resolve to see this mission through was a mistake. She contemplated using her implant to once again augment her mental shields but stopped short. She could almost hear her mentor, Ariel, telling her to not become too dependent on technology. Was she doing that? Sighing, Niko moved out of the bedchamber to the small office alcove.

While the accommodations were small, the guest quarters on the K'Lathia were still full service. The main partition housed a bed and office niche, consisting of a desk and chair. Off this main room was a small bathroom unit containing a lavatory, waste system, and sonic shower unit. Niko sat at the desk and triggered the computer console, but after staring blankly at the screen for several moments, she flicked it off again.

She was too restless to sleep but too drained to do anything else. Rallying herself, Niko stood and left her quarters. In the corridor, she made her way in the direction of the galley. Her earlier thoughts of Ariel had brought forth a memory of drinking warm milk flavored with vanilla. She had been only six at the time and plagued with nightmares that made little sense. Ariel had concocted the warm beverage that had helped her to settle down and finally sleep. Niko was hopeful that the drink would once again work its magic.

Finding the galley, Niko pushed on the door and found herself face to face with the strong aroma of coffee and the casual reclining figure of her fellow ranger, Gooseman. Niko shook her head as she continued through the door and glanced at the brew still steaming in her colleague's cup. How Shane could drink that sludge was beyond her. She went to the self-serve computer and input her order. While waiting for the program to finish, Niko slid into the chair directly across from Goose. "Having trouble sleeping?" she inquired raising her eyebrow at the fully caffeinated drink in his hands.

Shane smiled slowly as he savored a particularly long sip. "Nothing better to soothe the tired soul than a cup o' joe."

A beep from the computer signaled Niko's order was ready. She retrieved her mug and tasted the beverage as she once again sat across from Shane. They sat in companionable silence broken only by an occasional sipping exhale. Niko closed her eyes finally starting to relax.

"'Bout time," he said quietly.

"Hmm?" Niko asked distractedly still lost in the calming effects of her drink.

"You finally seem to be settling down," he elaborated. "What is that stuff anyway?"

"Vanilla milk."

"That explains it."

"What?" Niko asked allowing herself to be pulled into the friendly banter.

"The sickening sweet smell, it's starting to overpower my coffee."

Niko couldn't help but laugh. Shane's coffee was known to waft through his apartment walls. There was no way, super senses or not, that her milk would put a dent into that brew.

Gooseman enjoyed seeing Niko laugh. He realized suddenly that he couldn't recall the last time that he had heard it. A sudden urgency to know why she had been acting out of character overtook him. He was gearing himself up to ask, when Niko's eyes flashed violet and her cup shattered against the floor.

**0036 – Deep in Crown Territory**

**168 - 2105**

The thrumming of the flagship's engines could be felt through the floor as the monstrous vessel churned through hyperspace. A Crown Guard Elite walked to the helm of the bridge and turned to address the captain.

"They are on the move. We've received word that the destination is a Peace Summit being held on Ryman IV. What is your directive?"

"Ryman IV," the captain repeated pondering the significance of this latest twist. "I'll inform the Queen. This may be just the push she was looking for." The captain waved a small hand of dismissal to guardsman and called to his second. "Officer Nebitzner, you have the bridge!"

As the officer made his way to the captain's chair, the captain moved to his office. In a darkened corner a figure clad in white sat silently waiting. "My Queen," the man addressed the figure still slightly put off by the ghostly visage. In a second, the beautiful but cruel face of a raven-haired woman wearing a crown shimmered on what would be the face of the slaverlord.

"Report," came the terse reply.

"The Series 5 Galaxy Rangers have embarked to Ryman IV. They are traveling to a Peace Summit as security for the Rymean delegates as well as ambassadors for the League of Planets. What is your command?"

"My, my, my, they certainly wasted no time," the Queen said delightedly. "This is going better than I had hoped. The Rymeans have a strong life force. They'll make an excellent addition to the slave pins."

"Continue on an intercept course to the K'Lathia and CZemoras. When they reach the asteroid fields of Remus, we'll attack. I want all of the personnel secured before the ships are destroyed. And, make it look like an accident this time." The Queen waved her hand as she thought of even a better ploy.

"No, better yet, make it look like the work of the terrorists trying to end the Peace Summit. Yes, that should do nicely," she smiled barely suppressing her pleasure in knowing that soon all her desires would be met.


	3. Chapter 3

_Author's Note: Another chapter, can you believe it? I have absolutely no experience viewing or reading auras. I did as much research as I could to make the aural readings as authentic as possible. Any mistakes are mine. Clarifications from those with more knowledge of these things that I have are most welcome. Enjoy. -R_

**Chapter Three**

**0056 – Aboard Rymean Ship, CZemoras**

**168 - 2105**

Ranger Walter Hartford awoke to music, singing actually, if one could call it that. Blearily, he reached for the light switch and ended up knocking his CDU to the floor in his effort. Finding the light switch, the ranger returned his handheld computer device to its place on the nightstand and listened. All he could hear was the soft drone of the engines as they swept the CZemoras quietly along at hyperspeed.

But, he had heard something, and it was highly unlikely that the ranger's subconscious would combine a dream containing the Princess of Tarkon with a song sung by Eve Wheiner. _Song and Eve Whiener,_ Doc snorted to himself at the absurdity of those two concepts strung together.

Hartford slid off his bunk and poked his head out of the door to his quarters. Perhaps, he had heard someone passing. But, the hallway was silent and dim indicating no one had passed by recently.

Returning to his quarters, Doc looked around the small compartment for an explanation. His eyes fell on the silent CDU. _Can't be, can it?_ Picking up the device, he flipped it opened, touched his badge, and called the command for Pathfinder and Tripwire.

"Hey, Doc-o, what's up?" chirped the ever exuberant programs circling the air.

"Were you two practicing your karaoke again?" Doc demanded feeling slightly foolish just talking to the programs. He definitely needed to get out more.

"Not me."

"Me neither."

"Anyone else in there?" He continued reaching for the most logical explanation.

"Didn't hear a thing, you Pathfinder?"

"You might try Startalker," Pathfinder suggested still swirling around his programmer's head.

"Startalker," Doc keyed the command for the third program to make its appearance.

"Z'Pathlia," replied the third program.

"What?"

"Greetings ,in Rymean, of course. Well, technically, it means 'Greetings, True Blood' Did you realize that the majority of the current Rymean words stem from roots that combine bloodshed and psionic abilities? It is quite interesting; in fact, for example K'Lathia, means Blood of the Mind, while our ship the CZemoras…"

"Enough!" Doc ordered wondering not for the first time why he had given the programs individuality, personality, and sentience. "All I want to know from any of you is whether or not you heard anything out of the ordinary five minutes ago."

"Define _ordinary,_" requested Startalker.

Doc stopped himself from slapping his palm against his forehead in frustration. Taking a deep breath, he clarified through clenched teeth. "Did you hear anything other than typical ship activity either in these quarters or the corridor five or six minutes ago?"

"Nothing beyond normal parameters, Doctor Hartford."

"Fine," Doc replied. "I want all of you to continue monitoring this ship and alert me the minute something 'beyond normal parameters' occurs." With that final command line coded, Doc closed his CDU.

Placing the tool back in its proper place on the nightstand, Doc laid back on the bunk. Next leave, he was going to Tarkon instead of a fencing tournament. He so needed a vacation.

-----------------

"_Zachary, Zachary." _The faint voice called, a voice he had only heard in his memory and dreams for the past three years. _"Zachary, you're in danger!"_

Captain Foxx startled awake reaching for the voice only to find air. Inhaling sharply, he ran a hand across his face. Even after all this time, he still found it disconcerting that he would sweat only on the right side of his body. The need for sweat glands was made obsolete with his bionics. In fact, the bioorganic skin material encasing the mechanical systems was more for his benefit, to make him still feel human.

In the beginning, dreams of Eliza haunted him every night of his life, constantly reminding him of how he had failed his wife and two children. As time passed, the dreams slowly faded from losing her to memories of happier times much like he believed people react when a loved one dies. But, Eliza was not dead, she was in suspended animation and her life constantly threatened by the Queen.

Angrily, he punched the bunk creating a dent in the bed frame. _"Dammit,_" he berated himself realizing he had used his left fist to express his frustration. While the loss of Eliza and half of his body often made Zachary feel less than human, he always guarded against showing those feelings. It wasn't until he was behind closed doors that the self-loathing would manifest itself. And, it was always worse when he dreamed of her.

Kicking off the tangle of sheets wrapping around his legs, Zachary bent down to take a closer look at the damage. Luckily, the frame didn't appear to be completely broken. Using his left hand again, he straightened out the bend so that it was barely noticeable. _"If only I could fix everything else so easily," _he lamented silently flexing his hand looking closely at it.

The scientists, technicians and doctors should be commended at the seamless job they did creating an arm that looked and felt, well, mostly like an arm. It had taken him awhile to get used to the biomechanics, adjusting for extra weight and reading tactile sensation correctly. Still, it had been a long time since he had broken anything with his bionic arm; well anything that he hadn't intended to break anyway.

Zachary lay back in his bed and propped his right hand behind his head. He hadn't had dreams like this about Eliza since the Queen had attempted to trap him using her half of the psychocrystal. Although it was unlikely that she would attempt the same gambit again, he suddenly felt the need to check on his wife.

Picking up his wrist com, Zachary called to his personal AI. "GV," he spoke to the little, green, computer eyeball manifesting on the small vidscreen, "send a hyperspace relay to Longshot and check on Eliza for me."

"Right away, Captain Foxx," the eyeball acknowledged and rotated in a couple of circles as it complied with his request. "Message sent."

Zachary knew that the relay would take a few moments to correspond with the laboratory where Eliza Foxx's body lay in stasis and found himself drumming his bionic fingers against the nightstand with a sharp tapping. The little table shimmied with each finger stroke. _"What the…"_ Zachary stopped himself when he realized that he might be inflicting more damage to his quarters.

"Captain, incoming message," GV interrupted him.

"Go ahead." Zach acknowledged still slightly distracted.

"Captain Foxx, this is Matt. No changes with your wife. Her life signs remain stable, not seeing any abnormal fluctuations."

The news of Eliza's unchanged condition did little to salve Zachary's mind. While no change was most likely for the good, he couldn't help but hope that she would one day just remarkably wake up. He knew it was impossible, but that hope still whispered to him. "Acknowledge the message, GV."

"Right away, sir. Can I be of further assistance?"

"That'll be all, GV," Zachary replied turning off the wrist communicator. _"Now, I guess, I better recalibrate the tactile pressure sensor in my hand before I break something else."_

**0056 – Galley of Rymean Ship, K'Lathia**

**168 - 2105**

From the doorway to the galley, S'Kara watched the two Galaxy Rangers with interest. She had not had much time to study human behavior, that had been Rak's affinity and duty, rest his eternal spirit in the celestial fields of the afterlife. Humans were a peculiar group. She still stood by that first impression but added intriguing to it as well.

Her amber eyes sharpened to slits and her tail twitched slightly as she assessed the auras emanating from the two beings. Auras would be more forthcoming than actions and words, which could be contrary and evasive. She first concentrated on the male. The first color she perceived closest to his body was crimson with clear dark red flashes. The second level radiated turquoise streaked occasionally with pink. Finally, she observed pumpkin orange flecked with indigo on his third level.

"_Obviously, a strong male with a tendency to compete, perhaps a little anger maybe fierceness there with the flashes. Emotionally stable, been through hardships and won. The pink streaks indicate strong concern or affection for his companion. His third level, mental health, shows a very self-disciplined mind with likely psychic awakening,"_ she interpreted the colors quickly.

Then S'Kara turned her attention to the female ranger. This one would take more concentration, as she was a high level psychic. The strongest color on the ranger was a bright lemon yellow muddied slightly with red on the outer edges – sparkling red flecks chasing sulphur. _Strong direction, graceful and unified, muddied with feelings of… was that danger, anger or illness_?" she wondered.

The second level swirled the colors of indigo and green, the green more of a shade of viridian. _"No surprises here. Ranger Niko is obviously a very gifted and well-trained psychic. However, viridian usually indicates high levels of stress. Hmm..." _S'Kara pondered the color spectrum more as the third layer came into focus. _"Grey, greenish grey, yellow grey, which one?"_ S'Kara's concentration broke as the color turned from greys to the pilot blue of shielding, and then the aural presentation completely disappeared. A splintering of glass hitting the floor brought her attention from the auras to actions.

"Sorry," Niko muttered as she knelt down to mop up the warm, sticky liquid and remnants of her demolished cup from the floor.

"Don't cut yourself," Goose warned as he bent down to help her. Their hands collided. Niko jumped back with a hiss of pain and batted his hand away from her as he tried to steady her.

"Don't," she whispered sliding out of arm's reach.

"Niko, I…" Shane faltered as he saw the distress on her face magnify.

"Excuse me," S'Kara announced her presence and entered the galley. "Ranger Niko, are you injured? Did you cut yourself?"

"No, I'm fine," Niko answered slightly relieved at no longer being alone with Gooseman, aware that with an audience he wouldn't pursue a topic of conversation with her she wasn't willing to delve into herself. "Sorry about the mess."

S'Kara watched the ranger closely perceiving the direct contrast her words were to her actions and to the aural reading she had been taking. "No matter," S'Kara smiled gently, "that is what automated maid service is all about." The Rymean touched the computer screen and entered the command for the house keeping AI. A small robot disc scooted from one of the cabinets and began tidying the mess to prepare for recycling.

"You are sure you are all right?" the feline-looking Rymean asked gently placing her hand on the ranger's shoulder. A strong sense of the color sulphur seeped through the pilot blue before Niko pulled away.

"Please, don't touch me," Niko rasped seeking psychic space in the mind crowded room. Realizing how awful the request sounded, Niko softened the words. "S'Kara, I appreciate your concern, but I value my privacy."

"Of course you do," the young female agreed and looked quizzically at Ranger Gooseman whose worry while not projected on his face was vibrating through his aura. "To anyone gifted, privacy is protection. You need not explain yourself to me, Ranger Niko. I certainly understand."

"You do?" Niko asked surprised.

S'Kara heard the doubt in the human's voice and was confused. "Of course, shielding is one of the first principals psychics learn."

Niko's face blanched, and she slid into her vacated chair. "That can't be," she whispered looking from S'Kara to Goose. "You're broadcasting now, S'Kara."

"I'm what?" The genuine look of shock that crossed her face could not be described. S'Kara also sat down across the table from Niko.

"I can hear you. You and RGelio and all of the other psionics manning this ship, you've been constantly projecting your thoughts, intentions, and feelings. I've been trying to shield you from myself, but the constant battering of my defenses is becoming to much to handle," she finally admitted.

"But, Ranger Niko," S'Kara protested softly, "that's impossible. There are only two telepaths and three empaths on board. None of them are above a level three, and none of them have been anywhere close to you the entire time you've been on the ship."

"No," Niko stated emphatically. "I can hear you right now. You were reading me, both of us." Niko pointed at Gooseman.

"It is true that I can see your auras and make interpretations based on your chakras' projecting colors. I am a seventh level clairvoyant, but I don't even have a level one of telepathic abilities. I did read your auras, but these are natural projections of all living things. I broke no shields or privacy barriers. I would never violate mental shields even if I had the power to do so!"

"No," Niko shook her head, "this doesn't make any sense." Her head began pounding with ferocity at all the implications of what S'Kara was saying. "I can hear you, all of you."

Shane reached out a gentle hand to Niko and placed it over her own. "We can work this out," he assured softly.

Niko's eyes flashed violet, and she pushed away from Gooseman. Shane was catapulted out of his chair and thrown ten feet into the opposite wall. He landed hard the breath momentarily knocked from his lungs.

"I…I, Shane," Niko's hand flew to her mouth as she realized what she had done. She stood unsure of what to do as Shane shook his head from the impact with the wall.

Goose staggered to his feet and looked at Niko. "It's okay; it'll be okay," he promised reaching out his hand to her.

Niko looked one last time at him and fled the room.

"Dammit," Shane swore pushing off the wall. "Niko! Niko, wait!"


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

**0145 – Quarters Deck: Aboard Rymean Ship, K'Lathia**

**168 – 2105**

Ranger Niko flew down the corridor to her temporary quarters. She needed space, solitude from thoughts of others, to work out what was happening. Practically falling through the doorway, she palmed the security lock and dove for the portable recharge unit.

Before setting the unit on the small desk in her quarters, she activated her implant and released a charge for a psychic shield. The soft golden glow surrounding her steadied her raging emotions and gave her a chance to temporarily center herself. The loud hubbub of emotional and mental demands not belonging to her faded to only whispers. Tapping the badge again, Niko was able to strengthen the shield to shut out the whispers as well. Unnoticed, tears of relief coursed down her cheeks.

Wiping away the moisture, Niko knew she didn't have time for the luxury of a release that would be fleeting at best. Gingerly, she brushed the badge to get a sense of how much power her implant still held. It was already reduced to a quarter charge. She had been tapping into it sparingly all night, on and off, just to boost her defenses. If she were going to have enough in reserve to handle the next few hours before they slipped out of hyperspace to navigate the asteroid fields of Remus, she was going to need another recharge.

'_This must be how an addict feels.'_ The unwanted realization that she might very well be addicted to her implant flooded her thoughts as she fed the wire receptacles into the ports of her badge. Taking a deep breath to steady her hands shaking from the effort of maintaining mental shields for so long, Niko depressed the pressure plate on her badge. Raw currents coursed around her body throwing the electrostatic and electromagnetic fields off the charts. Forcing herself into a calm seemingly relaxed state, Niko allowed the portals that store power in her enhancement implant to open. Once the implant reach capacity, she gently released the badge's trigger mechanism, and the currents surrounding her fell away.

Niko opened her eyes not realizing that they had been closed. When undergoing an implant recharge, her senses were so acute that she could see through psionics more clearly than the physical senses. She took a step toward the generator and found herself floating toward it instead. She was levitating a few feet from the ground.

_Well, that's never happened before, at least, not involuntarily._ Niko gently lowered herself until her feet were once again on the floor of her quarters. She glanced at the mirror in the alcove of the lavatory and as expected found violet eyes staring back at her. A sharp rapping on her door took her attention.

Niko's eyes swept the walls of her room as she considered avoiding Ranger Gooseman. However, there was only one entrance and, therefore, one exit not counting the view portal, and a deep space jaunt seemed a little extreme. The pounding increased in tempo and force. Niko also briefly considered not opening the door in the vain hopes that he might go away and let her try to figure things out on her own. However, she knew her colleague well, and giving up was not in his vocabulary. Deciding her only choice was to face him, Niko removed the wires from her badge, smoothed her hair back, quickly scrubbed her face with her hands and palmed the door open.

The raw emotions seeping from Gooseman caused Niko to physically step back from the door and allow entry into her quarters. Goose needed no more invitation as he barged into the room and allowed the door to slide closed behind him. He stood mere inches away from her waiting. Gathering her courage, Niko finally raised her eyes to meet Shane's.

Shane stared into Niko's violet eyes realizing that she must have just used the portable unit to recharge her implant. "Have you been tapping into your badge this entire time?" he asked a trace of accusation tinting his voice.

"Only to shield myself."

"So what happened back there," Goose trailed off as both he and Niko remembered the telekinetic toss into the wall. "You used the implant?"

"No," Niko denied but even to her own ears she sounded less than sure of herself.

"You had to," Shane argued. "You don't have strong telekinetic capabilities without the aid of the implant."

"I was confused, disoriented, but I don't remember triggering the implant." Niko explained. She suddenly felt drained as the residual adrenaline from the implant recharge wore off. Masking her fatigue, Niko casually slid into the chair of her desk.

"You can't keep this up." Shane observed as the violet eyes faded to blue green pools of exhaustion. "The constant strain and use of your psionics is detrimental to you and this mission. Do you want to call the captain, or should I?"

"I'll do it." Niko answered quietly. "But, there is more going on here then simple overexertion, Shane. How do you explain the lack of shielding that S'Kara swears is not occurring on this ship? I have only been using the implant to increase my shields to avoid unwanted communication."

"That and tossing people who get too close out of your way," Gooseman said sharply. Niko didn't need to be psychic to see the restrained emotions playing on his face. Both concern and anger were easy to identify.

Niko's own temper ignited as she pushed from the chair suddenly energized. "Did you see me trigger my implant? Do you think that I would voluntarily throw anything much less you into a wall?" Niko balled her hands in frustration as the strain that she had been dealing with for weeks started to overwhelm her. Upset, she turned away not willing to let Shane see the tears threatening in her eyes.

"I told you we could work this out together," he reminded her softly as he brushed a hand through her hair, pulling the strands away from her back. The gesture was supposed to be comforting to relax the tension building in her shoulders. Instead, he was rewarded with her pulling away from him. Shane reached for her a second time and then thought better of it letting his hand fall to his side. "Talk to me, Niko," he growled somewhere between a command and plea.

"I don't even know where to start," she whispered.

**0206 – Bridge, Rymean Ship CZemoras**

**168 – 2105**

"Captain, we are approaching the Remus Asteroid Belt."

"Very well, Commander. Ensign Yler, take us out of hyperspace on my mark."

"Aye, sir," replied the ensign sitting at the helm control. Her fingers flew over the grid as she made the preparations to disengage the hyperdrive engines and return to normal space. In addition, she began mapping the asteroid belt for the best route to Ryman IV.

"Mark."

Immediately the cascading distorted linear lights of hyperspace gave way to starlight pinpoints as the CZemoras entered normal space. On screen, the massive field of asteroids loomed. Even though she had coordinated a preliminary course, Ensign Yler swallowed hard as the enormity of the field became three-dimensional.

"Ensign Yler," the captain spoke also looking at the view screen, "plot the best course through the belt and relay coordinates to the K'Lathia when it arrives. We'll take point."

"Course plotted, sir. K'Lathia arrival estimated in ten minutes."

"Captain," Commander Soran interrupted as a light began flashing on his console. "Sensor array is picking up one very large object off starboard bow. Correction, sir, I now have five unidentified signatures. One off starboard bow and four aft, starboard board quarter and portside quarter."

"Hail them, Commander. Ensign Yler, give me full visual of main signature off starboard bow."

The view screen zoomed to the vessel in front of the ship. An array of weapons lined the hull all trained on the CZemoras.

"Sir, hailing frequencies open but unanswered. I'm picking up increased energy levels to the vessel's forward weapons systems. Sir, they are arming and preparing to fire.

"Full shields, starboard bow and aft sections. Prepare for impact!" bellowed the captain as a warning klaxon began ringing through the ship flashing a yellow light on all decks.

**0215 – Quarters, Rymean Ship CZemoras**

**168 – 2105**

Ranger Walter Hartford jumped from his bed when the yellow alert sounded down the deck. Grabbing his dress shirt and CDU, he plowed out of his quarters into the hallway. Just as his feet hit the corridor, Captain Foxx also hurriedly buttoning his uniform top emerged from his quarters.

"What do we have, Doc?" Zachary asked watching the other ranger initialized his CDU.

"Finding out now," Hartford replied still feeling the giddiness of adrenaline pumping through his system at the unexpected wakeup call. He input the command line for Pathfinder.

"Doctor Hartford," a blue sparkle jumped from the handheld computer and hovered at eye level.

"Startalker?" Doc looked at the command line that he had typed. No, he had not mistyped the command.

"Sir," the little spark continued ignoring its creator's confusion, "experiencing activity ship wide beyond normal parameters."

"I can see that," Doc muttered, his brain still trying to explain why the last command line did not take precedence over the general command he had made a few hours ago. "Get back in there, Startalker. I need Pathfinder on the double."

"I'm here, Doc-o," announced the information retrieval program as it flew out of the CDU and circled around Hartford's head as the interpreter program returned to its housing.

"Get in there," Doc waved to a crew computer terminal near the elevator shaft, "and tell me what is happening on the bridge. Why are we on yellow alert."

"On it, Doc," the program squealed as it disappeared in a burst of energy into the computer input port.

While Pathfinder followed its command to gain information on their present situation, Doc continued to type into his CDU. Meanwhile, Zachary decided the direct approach might be more forthcoming. Tapping his wrist communicator, he hailed the bridge. Static was the only answer to his attempt. Knowing he would have to wait for the program to return to provide information, Zachary rubbed at his temples in frustration and leaned against the hallway bulkhead.

"We got problems, Doc," Pathfinder screeched as it flew out of the computer access port and danced in the air in front of the two rangers.

"Report."

"Five ships have trained their weapons on the CZemoras. They are not answering hails. In fact, weapon signatures indicate that they are powering up. We're going to be fired upon."

Just as the program finished its report the entire ship shuttered as a quick barrage of weapon's fire impacted with the ship's hull. The electrical system that Pathfinder had accessed sparked wildly with the blue white light of an energy surge. The terminal died with a sharp crack filling the small corridor with ozone and fried plastic wiring. Again, the ship rocked. The yellow warning lights filtering through the smoke changed color to red.

The intercom above the rangers' heads crackled to life. "Attention, all hands, battle stations. We are under attack. This is not a drill. Repeating, this is not a drill. All essential personnel report to your stations."

Doc looked at Zachary as he returned the computer program to the CDU. "Where do we go?"

"K'Baron and the other two dignitaries," Captain Foxx decided as he led the way down the passageway to the council members' chambers.

**0205 – Quarters Deck: Aboard Rymean Ship, K'Lathia**

**168 – 2105**

Gooseman ran an irritated hand through his sandy hair. Speaking with Niko had been more like an interrogation rather than a productive discourse. He slid a chair towards her and indicated that she sit. He took the other chair, flipped it around, and straddled it. "Why don't we start with the beginning," he coaxed resting his forearms on the back of the chair. "You've been edgy and distracted long before this mission. You were moody even before we went to Arkansas2."

"Has it been that long?" Niko genuinely sounded surprised.

"Yes."

Sighing, Niko collected her thoughts and then decided to plow through all that she knew. "I guess you're right, things have been a little off. I've been having trouble sleeping, but I can't think of any trigger event."

"Think, Niko, when did you start having trouble; when was the last good night's sleep that you had?"

"Do you remember the mission where Doc and I went and rescued the runaway daughter of the Senator from Nebraska?"

Goose only nodded his head afraid that interrupting her might cause this brief period of openness to shutdown.

"The night before we left was the last time I remember sleeping through the night. Well, that isn't really true. Something strange did happened that night though. At the time, I thought I dreamt it."

"What happened," Goose prompted.

"I had a nightmare – I think it was a nightmare. I'm not sure; I couldn't remember any of the details. But after I got out of bed, I thought that there might be a psychokinetic field distributed through my quarters. I shielded, but there was nothing there."

"Keep going."

Niko slid from the chair and began pacing the perimeter of the room. "We rescued the Senator's daughter, but she was hit in the crossfire. I'm still not certain how that happened. I had her shielded, but a bullet still grazed her shoulder. Then, Doc and I had that problem with the computer."

"What problem with the computer?" Shane asked.

"Doc didn't tell you? I thought he was going to come up with puns all night. I guess, it was just a little glitch. We had compiled a preliminary report on the incident, but it was corrupted. Somehow Zozo's pastry recipes were merged with our report. Doc fixed it in a few minutes. Anyway, the next day we were called to Arkansas2."

"Let's talk about that."

"This is pointless, Shane. I didn't start having problems until we met with the Rymeans."

"You may not think so, Niko. But Doc and I both have noticed subtle changes in you."

"Come on, is this about the hair now?"

Goose stood up and gently touched Niko on the shoulder. She jumped back at the physical contact. Her eyes flashed violet, and Shane was once again catapulted away from her. This time he was prepared and flipped with the motion to end up on his feet. The momentum carried him about fifteen feet, but he was able to keep from colliding with the wall. "No, Niko, it is about this."

"I didn't. You saw me; I didn't touch my badge." The shock at what she had done was written on her face.

"I know," Goose agreed watching her reaction to what had happened carefully. "We need to talk about Arkansas2."

"You were there, Shane," Niko's voice started to rise as she realized that she was losing control of her powers.

She held her hand up as Shane began to reach toward, presumably to offer physical comfort. He stopped since they both knew that that was part of the problem. Shane watched as Niko gently brushed the plate of her trigger badge to gauge the charge. "That can't be," she denied softly. "I'm already at three quarters of a charge. I just reenergized the implant before you walked in, and I haven't used it since."

Shane didn't have time to answer as the ship lurched violently throwing both rangers off their feet. Alarms began blaring, and smoke started pouring from the ceiling as electrical systems surged and blew. Niko stumbled to her feet only to be thrown off them again as the ship once again heaved.

Using the partial wall connecting the lavatory to the main room as an anchor, Gooseman managed to stay on his feet. He caught a flash of laser fire out the portal of Niko's room before another sickening thud and shimmying took place.

"Niko," he yelled to the auburn haired ranger, "we're under attack! We need to get out of here and find S'Kara and RGelio. Take my hand!"

Niko pulled herself to her feet and braced herself on the bed as sparks rained down from the ceiling and fire suppression foam followed. With a push off the bunk, she launched herself toward the supertrooper.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

**1000 – Office of Commander Joseph Walsh, BETA Mountain**

**168 – 2105**

Picking up another folder from the stack that his secretary had just brought in, Commander Joseph Walsh sighed, glanced at the content, and signed his name to the report. It seemed that for every file on which he laid his hands his secretary would replace it with two more. He had just set the digital pen down and was reaching to take a sip of his long since cold coffee when the commlink to his office flashed red.

Steeling himself for bad news, Commander Walsh answered, "Walsh, here."

"Commander," the frantic voice of the head of Deep Space Security called out. "We've just received word that both the K'Lathia and CZemoras have been destroyed."

"They were what!"

"Sir according to the ships' hyper relay transmissions, we received word that both Rymean ships K'Lathia and CZemoras were under attack at 0215 hours Sector Nineteen, Quadrant Seven, time stamp. Within minutes of receiving the transmission, long range scanners picked up a disturbance near the Remus Asteroid Belt. According to the data transmission, an explosion of the magnitude of one or more ships was confirmed."

Walsh sank back into the chair of his office not realizing that he had been standing at attention. "The Series 5 Rangers and Rymean Delegates?" he asked hating the hesitation that laced his words.

"Status unconfirmed, sir. Wait, we are receiving an incoming message."

"Patch me in, Officer Demoritz."

The vidcom screen split into two images as a second message began to play. It was a preprogrammed message. "This is the Clan Council, the rightful government of Ryman IV. We hereby acknowledge the destruction of the ships, K'Lathia and CZemoras. All traitors have been dispatched. Any further acts of the League of Planets or Ryman IV Confederation shall be deemed as acts of war. Ryman IV does not request your assistance. Our matters shall be handled internally…This is the Clan Council, the rightful…" Commander Walsh cut the transmission as the loop began to repeat itself.

"Did they just take credit for destroying two of their own ships?" The security officer's words were colored with disbelief. "That was awfully quick."

"More than that," Walsh agreed. "It is awfully convenient as well. Establish communication with Ryman IV. I want an audience with the Confederation."

"Sir, as soon as we learned of the disturbance, we have been attempting to raise Ryman IV. All of our attempts at communication with the planet have been black screened."

"Give me an update on League ships closest to Sector Nineteen, Quadrant Seven," Walsh demanded changing tactics.

"We have a scientific vessel five man crew, mostly Andorians, located within hyperjump distance. They have little to no offensive capabilities, but their engines are fast. They could be there in a less than an hour. The Space Cruiser, Taos, is also close enough to investigate. It would need to divert its nonessential passengers prior to departure. Let's see, the Hidalgo might make it in a span of hours as well."

"Dispatch the science vessel at once. I want BETA eyes and ears on everything that happened in the asteroid belt. In addition, divert the Hidalgo to the same location. Given what little we know, the Andorians might need back up with more than a little firepower."

"The League will not stand for acts of atrocity committed on its members – new or otherwise. The Clan Council will answer for what happened, but I want facts not claims. There is much more going on here than we've been told and led to believe. Keep trying the planet. I refuse to believe that a small faction of terrorists could have taken the whole planet off line."

"Aye, sir." The vidcom faded to blackness as Officer Demoritz began delegating the ordered tasks to BETA personnel.

Walsh leaned forward with his chin pressing against the crossed and folded fingers of his clasped hands. The Series 5 Team had to still be out there. They just had to be. His gut told him he would know if they were dead, and as irrational as that was, he refused to believe otherwise.

**0600 – Somewhere Beyond Sector Nineteen – Quadrant Seven**

**168 – 2105**

A dull thrumming of an engine traveling at hyperspeed was the first sound Ranger Niko recognized as she slowly opened her eyes. Trying to orient herself, Niko pushed her body off the floor only to be stopped immediately by blinding pain radiating from her left shoulder through her back and chest. The intensity of the pain almost caused her to blackout as she collapsed back to the floor.

Gulping in draughts of air, she rested until the ache lessened to the same thudding of the ship's engines. The cool diamond plated metal on her cheek also helped to soothe the roiling of her stomach. Gathering her strength for another attempt at sitting, Niko pushed herself up once again and leaned back against a wall. The movement intensified the pain stretching through the left side of her body and restarted the nausea. Sweat gathered in beads on her forehead and upper lip as her body compensated for the change in position.

While getting her body settled into its new stance, Niko distracted herself by looking at her surroundings. She was in a small room, probably no more than six feet by eight feet, she guessed. Three of the walls were smooth metal dulled from age. The fourth was translucent, but the occasional ribbon of an energy field indicated that the wall was solid either by force field or electric field. Deciding she wasn't quite ready to determine the origin of the field just yet, Niko rested her head against the wall and looked up at the dull metal ceiling of her prison and tried to remember what had happened.

The last thing she remembered clearly was her jump for Shane's hand. The fire that had broken out throughout her quarters was eagerly consuming the fire suppression foam before it could be smothered. She remembered Shane's hand closing around hers and their race for the main corridor. She also remembered being thrown through the door as Shane was flung deeper into the hallway. He had hit the other wall with enough force to dent the partition. As she had started to run to help him, she had been jerked forcibly backwards. An audible pop had accompanied her directional change. Pain had flashed sharply as an acrid smoke had risen around her obscuring her view and causing her to lose consciousness. Then presumably she had ended up here, wherever that was.

The mere memory of the chemically tainted smoke caused a psychosomatic cough response. Niko quickly quelled the coughing as spasms of pain radiated through her damaged shoulder. With her good arm, she reached for her Galaxy Ranger badge and came away not surprisingly empty. Only the connection for the depression plate remained on her uniform. Her wrist com, utility knife, and small field medical bag were also missing. Slowly, she moved her hand to feel around her shoulder. Palpitation confirmed her previous guess; her deltoid felt flatter than it should. Her left shoulder was dislocated, and any movement of her left arm and shoulder caused a jarring pain to flex throughout her left side.

A flash of movement from the corner of her eye caused Niko to look up. Shadows paused in the corridor and then continued to another cell several feet away. Suppressing a gasp of pain, Niko slid herself against the wall and tried to peer out of her cell to where the new visitors stood. She was just barely able to make out two distinct figures, one stood near to the energy field partition separating that inhabitant from freedom, the other stood further back but was unmistakable in white flowing robes. _Slaverlord!_

--

"S'Kara?" the rich baritone of a male called into the cell after he punched a key sequence disabling the force shield. A slight movement caught his eye as the occupant of the chamber moved into view.

"RGelio?" The Rymean female walked slowly to where she had heard his voice. She held up her hand and felt his press warmly into it. As soon as they touched, S'Kara launched herself into his welcomed embrace. "What happened? Are you all right?" Concern and confusion poured through her voice in a rapid sequence of questions as she leaned into his strong arms.

"We've done it! We're free!"

"Free?" she questioned. "From whom, RGelio? I don't understand."

"What we've worked so hard for has finally come to fruition. Ryman IV will be liberated; our kind will no longer be persecuted."

A dawning of what RGelio was saying came to S'Kara. "No," she whispered in denial and pushed away from him. "We talked about this; we agreed that this was not the path."

"You agreed, S'Kara, not I and not the clansmen. This is our justice. You should be happy. We are free!"

"You call this free?" S'Kara spat pressing against one of the walls of the cell in which she had found herself.

"You are here for your own protection. When your sight returns, you will understand."

"I don't need physical sight to understand. I can see you, RGelio. You are scarlet, deep orange and dark yellow – manipulative, prideful and deceitful. And, your silent companion, what of it - cold empty blackness - what have you done?"

"I've done what needed to be done from the very beginning," RGelio roared with enough vehemence to cause S'Kara to flinch. "They never would have treated us as equals. Do you not remember the violence, the destruction of our siblings and friends? You were sterilized while carrying my child! I will not forgive that atrocity."

S'Kara's sightless eyes misted from unwanted memories prickling to consciousness. "I remember all too well," she whispered her hand caressing her abdomen. "But that does not excuse what you have done."

"It is already done, S'Kara! You must understand..."

"I understand more than you realize, RGelio. You betrayed not only Ryman IV but all of us, ZPath K'Lathia Rymea! We are all slaves now; only some of us have actual walls."

"The Queen will be our retribution, our salvation."

"The Queen is our destruction!" S'Kara's words were cut off as a telekinetic vise closed over her throat forcing the air from her lungs.

"Petulant child!" roared the slaverlord coming to life with the angry visage of the Queen of the Crown. "You should know your place! Do not trifle with me. Your destiny was won by RGelio's faithful service, but even I have limits to my goodwill." With a wave of its ghostly lavender hand, the slaverlord released its invisible grip on S'Kara's windpipe, and she fell to the ground struggling to return oxygen to her starved lungs.

"Her understanding or lack thereof is no consequence, RGelio. Come, we have much work left to do."

RGelio looked back into the cell holding his betrothed. While he did not agree with the Queen's tactics, he had learned early on to offer the proper respect for the work she had done on their behalf.

"The Queen will give us the power to right the wrongs, S'Kara. Her price is fair for the protection she grants us. I will come and check on you soon." Reengaging the force shield, RGelio turned and followed the ghostly figure toward the bridge. She was correct. There was much to do before they arrived on Ryman IV. S'Kara would come to understand and accept that as well.

S'Kara curled into a small ball on floor of her cell. While the physical effects of the slaverlord's stranglehold had diminished, her mental anguish at what RGelio had done was just beginning. They had been through nightmares that could not be described and suffered through the carnage of the consequence of their births. Yet, they had beaten the odds, and the tide was finally turning in their favor. She was not naïve enough to believe that Ryman IV would ever be the way the few elders they had left described it. But she had been optimistic that once the cease-fire had been signed a new path was on the horizon

Progress had been painfully slow even regressing further than the forward progress took them at times. The establishment of a Ryman Confederation to address the conflicts between the two groups was in name only. Even after the First Peace Summit, the psionic Rymeans were losing rights that they had just been granted. Still, the clansmen had agreed to seek a peaceful resolution before turning to other measures.

Entrance to the League of Planets had been a crucial first step in bridging the bigotry that divided the Rymean race. Their reception by the humans in the Sol system had been promising. A second summit would correct those early losses of rights and ease the growing pains of a harmony tenuously won. A mixed council of psionics and non-psionics would be a new beginning and a chance for hope. Or, so she had thought. Obviously, she had been deceived.

--

Willing her body to comply, Niko tried to rise to her feet and managed to get as far as her knees before another muscle spasm incapacitated her. _Damn,_ she was going to have to do a self-reduction. Under normal circumstances, she wouldn't even consider such a maneuver, but the likelihood of finding medical attention was so unrealistic that the chance she might cause permanent damage was overruled. At least, the dislocation was only partial and not total. Though, that fact did nothing to reduce the pain she was feeling from the misalignment.

She lowered herself back to her buttocks and far enough away from the wall so that she would have to be practically lying down before she could hit it. Slowly, she drew her left leg to ninety degrees and clasped both of her hands around it and began leaning backward. She felt the muscles in and around her shoulders violently contract. The pain was excruciating, and she bit her lip hard to keep from physically crying out. Forcing herself to relax into the stretch and to keep the pressure constant, Niko felt her shoulder suddenly let go and sobbed in relief as the bone and socket fell back into correct alignment.

"Ranger Niko?" S'Kara's voice called out. "Ranger Niko? Is that you? Are you all right?"

"I am now," Niko agreed breathing for the first time without pain. "What about you? Are you all right?"

"I've been better," S'Kara admitted getting to her feet and feeling for the front barricade of her cell. "I heard you scream."

"Just taking care of something," Niko hedged. "S'Kara can you reach the keypad to your cell?"

"I'm completely closed off. I don't feel any gaps."

Niko pushed herself to her feet and began to examine the walls, ceiling, and shield more closely. The holding cells of what she guessed was the brig appeared to be completely separated from the rest of the ship and from each other. Even the atmosphere duct system appeared to be separate. _But if that is the case then how are S'Kara and I talking?_

"You tell me," S'Kara replied. "You're the one who initiated contact."

"What do you mean contact?"

"Ranger Niko, you're using telepathy. I told you before that I am not even a level one telepath. I can receive and respond, but I cannot initiate nor direct."

Niko was very quiet. She knew that she could have telepathic conversations without the use of her implant. She'd been doing it on Xanadu for years, but they had been with other telepaths. It wasn't possible for her to host a one-sided telepathic conversation, at least not without her implant augmenting her talents. And, there was no way that she could trigger her implant without her badge. Could she? Niko physically recoiled from the ramifications that flooded her mind at using psionics without the added boost of her implant.

S'Kara felt the fear flooding through the rapport that Niko had inadvertently created between them. While she appreciated Niko's feelings, she knew that they had little time left. Plowing ahead, she thought hard at Niko knowing that the ranger was in no position to shield her. "I'm sorry Ranger Niko," S'Kara began and allowed some empathy to pass through their bond before continuing. "But why are you fighting this? I know that human psychics have not been treated well in the Sol system. I know that you are looked upon with suspicion and that many feel you should be contained. The psychics on your homeworld of Xanadu warned you of this. They warned you not to leave. They warned you of the dangers of accepting mechanical means to harness and boost your latent talents. You still left. You still joined the Galaxy Rangers. Ranger Niko, the Queen of the Crown is here! She will enslave the Rymeans, and when she has taken all that she can from us, she will come for the humans. You have a gift that can save us. Use it!"

Niko's eyes flashed violet, and the shield blocking her from the rest of the ship fell away in a quiet hiss. Quickly, she fled the prison and moved to the keypad of S'Kara's cell. Typing in the code she had memorized from RGelio, she opened the cell. S'Kara walked to the where she heard the Galaxy Ranger stand and embraced the other woman.

"S'Kara," Niko breathed heavily from the exertion of her mental powers, "your eyes."

"I was injured in the crash. An electrical surge fried a console I was using. RGelio doesn't think that it is permanent." S'Kara answered as quickly as she could. "I cannot see the physical world, Ranger Niko, but I can still be of help. My clairvoyance is even stronger now without the sense of sight. I will not slow you down."

"I didn't think you would." Niko agreed. Gently guiding her senses through the ship, Niko paused when she found a mental signature that she recognized. "Let's go," she told the other woman and grabbed S'Kara's hand as she led the way off of the brig.

--

_A/N: Thanks to all of you who have reviewed and the patience everyone has had with me. I'll be continuing this story as fast as I can with everything else going on in my life. I've been updating my bio/profile – quicker than my stories, so if you want to see what's going on in my real life or where I am on other stories, that's always a good place to start. Thanks again – I hope to catch you all on the next chapter – Regards, RL_


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

**Time Unknown - Somewhere Beyond Sector Nineteen – Quadrant Seven**

**168 – 2105**

Doc opened his eyes to an unfocused, murky dimness. He blinked quickly trying to clear his vision. On his third blink, he realized that it wasn't his eyes that were causing his image problems, but it was his location. Slowly, he rubbed a hand across his temples attempting to soften the sudden onslaught of a headache as well as bring himself to more lucidity.

The last thing he remembered was running for the corridor of the Rymean delegates' quarters. He and Zachary had just made it to the first doorway when a suffocating smoke surrounded them. Given his sudden, blinding migraine, Doc realized that it hadn't been just any smoke but Selvek knock out gas. The gas had originally been manufactured to sedate large animals on long trips to other planets. It had just as quickly been outlawed by the League when it was determined that large amounts of this gas caused damage to the synaptic pathways of the nervous system often causing organ failure in thirty percent of the animals that had been exposed. Biting back sudden nausea from either his morbid thoughts or a side effect of the gas, Doc leaned his head back and surveyed his current situation.

He appeared to be in a cell complete with metal bars. The compartment was old and stunk of sweat, urine and feces. There was a small bucket set in the corner of the cubicle and given the unwelcome odors emanating from that direction, Doc surmised that would be his toilet for the duration of his stay. The rest of the walls were rusting metal with the exception of the entryway into the room, the wall of floor to ceiling bars. The only other object in the room was a metallic cup sitting on the floor fairly close to the barred entrance.

Sighing and wiping the sweat from his eyes, Doc coaxed himself to his feet and walked or more accurately stumbled to the cup. Inside was some kind of liquid. Carefully, Doc inhaled but found no odor. He dipped the tip of his finger into the cup and looked at the small, colorless drop running down the length of the digit. Carefully, he licked the moisture; all he tasted was wetness. His throat sent signals to his brain that a refreshing drink would clear his head and ease the ache left over from breathing in the noxious gas.

Doc was about to take a sip from the cup when a raspy voice from a cell across from his warned, "I wouldn't do that if I were you."

Doc stopped midmotion. "Who said that?" he hissed barely recognizing the voice coming from his own lips.

"I did," the voice replied and Doc could see a figure pressing against another set of bars.

"Nimrod?" Doc asked scarcely recognizing the two-bit con.

"Yes," Nimrod acknowledged and swiped a few pieces of his matted, no longer purple, mane from his eyes.

"What happened to you?"

"Tell me, Ranger, what day is it?"

Doc unconsciously looked to his wrist to verify the day and time only to note that his comm was no longer in place. "Well, unless I've been out longer than I think I have, it's 168-2105, probably no longer morning though."

"More than two weeks," the Leonid whispered hoarsely to himself and slid to his knees.

"What do you mean two weeks?" Doc prompted not really sure he wanted an answer.

Nimrod laughed mirthlessly. "The plan must be further along if you are already here."

"Come again?"

"Tell me, Ranger, what has been happening with the Series Five Team in the last few weeks? Anything unexpected, broken perhaps?"

Doc's eyes narrowed at the catlike criminal. "I think, dear Nimrod, you might want to clue me in on a few things first. Like where the hell are we, and why are you here?

"Are you really so dense? I have been pinning my hopes of rescue on you four, and this is what I get?"

Doc unbuttoned his uniform shirt and dried his brow with the one of the front tails. The temperature in the cells was unbearably warm. "You first, Nimord."

Nimrod took a cup identical to the one that Doc was holding and sipped a tiny amount of liquid. "There are two reasons to bide your time with this," he started and held up the beverage. "The first is this is all you get for a day or so, sometimes even longer if they forget about you. Secondly, the water is laced with some kind of sedative. Drink too much and lights out. I'm sure I've lost days," he muttered taking another small sip.

"Focus, Nimrod," Doc ordered as he saw Nimrod slump slightly against the bars.

"I'm fine," Nimrod slurred and then shook his head to clear the cobwebs. "I've haven't eaten in days. The Queen keeps this place so hot that you don't have a choice but to drink or pass out. Of course, you drink and pass out too." A soft giggle escaped Nimrod's lips.

One word caused Doc to stiffen. "Did you just say Queen, as in the Queen of the Crown?"

"Ding, ding, ding, we have a winner!"

Doc resisted the urge to grab the bars of his cell and shake them in frustration. "All right, I'll bite. Tell me the story Nimrod, why are you here. Last time I checked Leonids weren't high on her Highness's Psychocrypt List."

"No, but humans are," he retorted. "I'll tell you the story, Ranger, but I want something in return."

Knowing he was going to regret the move, Doc slowly nodded his head in encouragement.

"I want immunity."

"What? I'm not a lawyer, I can't offer…"

"Look, I have valuable information that might help save your Series Five hides. But I need assurances too."

Doc looked pointedly at Nimrod and then at their cells. "I hardly think either of us is in a position to enter into some kind of plea agreement."

"Fine," Nimrod grumbled and sat on the ground leaning his back against the metal bars.

It was quiet for a few minutes while Nimrod took a few more sips from his cup. Doc wasn't sure if that was the end to their discussion until Nimrod began again. "I'll tell you what I know, but when you get out of here, you have to take me with you."

"That, my dear furry friend, is a deal," Doc agreed and also took a seat near to the bars.

"Make yourself comfortable, Ranger Hartford, and I'll tell you a bedtime story that will make your hair curl." Nimrod glanced back at Doc and noticed the waves in his hair forming from the hot humid air. "In a manner of speaking," he amended.

"I'm not at a comedy club," Doc growled taking a tentative sip of the chemically tainted water. "Spill it."

-----------------

With head pounding, Zachary Foxx opened his eyes to a strange violet red sunset. At least that is what he thought it was until he turned three sixty and realized there was no change in brightness or intensity of the rosy glow. _Where am I?_ There was no land mark no reference point just a foggy sense of reddish pink without any dimension.

"Zachary."

Zachary closed his eyes for a moment feeling the voice resonate around him making his location clear. _I'm dreaming._

"Zachary," the voice repeated seemingly closer to him this time. "Open your eyes."

Captain Foxx opened his eyes to find his wife, Eliza Foxx, standing a few feet in front of him. Even though he knew it was a dream he couldn't help himself and held his arms out to the image. "Eliza," he breathed. To his surprise, the image of his wife walked into his embrace. She was solid.

Zachary's hands moved of their own accord, touching a face that he had only been able to see through a Plexiglas, stasis field. He knew every nuance, every freckle. There were a few more wrinkles, but the face was Eliza's. Her hair had grown as well. It was no longer shoulder length but ran down the curve of her back and brushed her waistline. Eliza stepped back and looked at him her eyes shimmering with emotion laden tears.

"Dear God, it is you." Zachary didn't allow himself to think about the ramifications of Eliza being returned to him or where they currently were; he acted solely on impulse. He grabbed her and pulled her into a hard embrace his lips crushing against hers. They kissed. Their lips dancing a dance of give and take: desire, loss, return. Zachary pulled his wife close smelled her scent and felt the wash of her tears as they slid against his neck.

After a few moments lost in emotions that could find no words, Eliza pulled back and looked into Zachary's eyes. "This isn't a dream," she whispered and hugged him against her again even more tightly. "It is much, much worse."

"Worse?" Zachary was uncomprehending still lost in the sense of her denied to him for so long. He couldn't get his fill: taste, smell, touch, sight, sound. "How can this be worse? We're together. Dear God, you're back."

Eliza again pulled away and placed her hands on a face she hadn't touched in three years. She could feel the roughness of bearded stubble grazing her fingertips. There was a scar under his left jaw that before now she had never seen or felt. "Zach," she began unsure of how to tell him. "I'm not free. You're just with me now."

Eliza's words hit him like a punch in the gut. He sunk to his knees, and Eliza followed holding on to him. "No. No, the kids, Eliza, the kids," he denied.

"I know," Eliza breathed gently into his ear.

"It's a trap," Zachary snarled and pushed her viciously away. "I know your tricks, Queen, and I won't let you get away with this!"

Eliza made no move toward him. She watched the anger, the denial, flare and was in a sense relieved. If he were to get out of here, get them both out of here, they would need this emotion not the despair she had felt for so long. "I'm not the Queen, Zach, and, I wish to God, this were just a dream. But, it isn't. Search yourself, and you will know I speak the truth."

Zachary didn't want to think about the truth, what was real what wasn't. He just wanted the nightmare to end. Closing his eyes, he tried to force himself awake. But, when he opened his eyes, all he found was the purple fog and Eliza kneeling next to him. "What is this?" he finally asked her.

"I know the Queen has used me before. I remember…" Eliza trailed off for a moment remembering how close he was and yet how far away they had been. She had simply stood in front of a lurid red looking glass watching helplessly as she had led Zachary into a trap designed by the Queen, her own psyche a traitor to herself, to them. Shaking the memory for their current situation, Eliza continued. "The Queen made a plan to trap you and your team. She has begun to take control of the planet Ryman IV. You've been to her Psychocrypt before. You know this is where we are, some kind of psychic limbo."

Zachary nodded numbly. He had felt the pain when wrenched from his physical body and trapped in a psychocrystal once before. Like then, his whole body ached with the memory. _Whole body._ Zachary looked at his left hand as he flexed it. There were no biomechanics here. Here, he was whole.

Eliza watched him as he examined his hand, arm and leg. "What?"

"Nothing. It's just weird."

"What is?" she prompted again.

"I've wished for this moment for so long, you and me together, my body whole again. But, I never had this particular scenario in mind."

"I've missed you too," Eliza replied and tentatively touched the hand that was capturing his gaze. "What happened? What do you mean, your body whole again?"

Zachary looked at his wife realizing that it was indeed Eliza and not some dream or Queen inspired trap. Eliza did not know about Captain Kidd, what had happened after she was delivered to the Queen. "When you were captured, I went after you and got shot."

Eliza inhaled sharply and ran her finger along his jaw where she had seen the scar. Zachary gently pulled her hand away. "BETA had me fitted with bionic prosthetics, biomechanical representations of the entire left side of my body. I'm sorry, Eliza, I failed you."

"Oh, Zachary," Eliza cried and pulled him to her. "You didn't fail me. It wasn't your fault."

"Yes, it is, all of it!" Zachary yelled not accepting her comfort. "I lost not only half of my body but you as well. You ended up in the Queen's crypt. That wasn't your place; it was mine!"

Suddenly, the air around the couple rippled. Zachary had the distinct feeling of being pulled away from Eliza. He tried to scream, call her name, but nothing came out.

Zachary found himself staring through some kind of red glass. He was looking at a representation of himself, a twisted juxtaposition of another's body and his own psyche, over neither of which he had control. Helplessly, Zachary watched himself grab S'Kara around her throat and lift her from the floor. A voice boomed through his head bouncing off the crystal facets surrounding him.

"_Petulant child! You should know your place! Do not trifle with me. Your destiny was won by RGelio's faithful service, but even I have limits to my goodwill." _

Suddenly, Zachary let go and watched as S'Kara, gasping for air, fell to the ground of some kind of prison cell. _ "Her understanding or lack thereof is no consequence, RGelio. Come, we have much work left to do."_

Another disconcerting time flux passed, and Zachary found himself back in the red fog of the psychocrystal realm. Pain caused him to roll to his side and grab his head. He had never felt anything like that before.

"Shh," Eliza's voice consoled as she rubbed him softly on the back. "It will pass."

Zachary turned to his back and found his head cradled in her lap. "The Queen…" was all he could gasp out as nausea overwhelmed him.

Eliza gently helped Zachary to sitting and continued to rub his back in a circular motion until the vomiting stopped. "I know."

"How?" Zachary asked roughly swiping his mouth and jaw with the sleeve of his shirt.

"I'm not sure. Somehow even though we aren't connected to our physical bodies we feel and see what the Queen is doing. We still have physical reactions, acting as we would in the real world, only doing so here. In some ways, it is probably worse."

"No," Zachary said softly waving off Eliza's explanation of his misunderstood question. "I want to know how you've done it? How have you managed this," he waved his hand to the nothingness surrounding them.

"I do it for you," she answered with brutal honesty. "It is the only way to survive. I'll always fight for you, Zach, for you and the kids."

Zachary bent his head in wake of her words. Sorrow for all that they lost, all of the time that had been taken from them, the evil that the Queen had inflicted on all of them, caused them to commit in her name, hit him in parallel. He felt Eliza's arms slide around his torso as the first of many suppressed tears slid from his eyes.

-----------------

The chains holding his arms above his head rattled as Shane Gooseman shifted trying to find a more comfortable position. The ache in his chest had turned to a slow itch indicating that his biodefenses were starting to mend the ribs that were broken when he had hit the wall outside of Niko's quarters on the K"Lathia. He was still kicking himself for that mistake.

When Niko had caught his hand, her powers had kicked in again launching them out of the room. He had not been in a position to maneuver a safe landing without hurting her. So, he had opted to take the brunt of the impact. He had been dazed for a second and not prepared for the Selvek knockout gas or the Elite Crown Troops that had appeared out of nowhere. He had almost successfully triggered his badge when three troopers had grabbed him. His weakened state, their attack, and the gas had been too much for him. The last thing he remembered was seeing Niko grabbed and hurled backward into the thickening smoke.

The mere memory of her screaming his name caused him to straighten and try the restraints again. As they had on every attempt he had made so far, the bindings held fast. There was nothing for him to do but think while he hung on the wall like some kind of trophy.

He had not seen anyone else on the ship as he listened to the engines plod through hyperspace. It wasn't the usual modus operandi of the Queen to leave him to stew over his predicament. He would have expected her to come gloating about throwing him into her Psychocrypt by now. Yet, the vessel had been strangely quiet. There had been no curious personnel peering at the captive supertrooper through the small observation window of the only door to the cell. Not even a change of guard had been made.

A fluttering sensation, like a hand caressing his temple, derailed his train of thought. _Niko? _Shane concentrated hard on the sensation but felt it disappear almost as quickly as he had become aware of it. He wished he knew what had happened to her. He knew the soldier had dislocated her shoulder. He had heard and felt her cry of pain that had accompanied the pop of bone rending from its socket. It had caused him to struggle to get to her. He had managed a nice uppercut to the main antagonist before the gas overtook him.

Shane decided to turn his thoughts to the present. He was in some kind of solitary confinement on a ship that he did not immediately recognize. He knew that it wasn't a Crown Destroyer; in fact, it didn't appear to be of Crown origin at all. Other than himself and his shackles with the anchor embedded in the metal of the wall, there were no objects: no toilet, no beverage or food containers, and no chairs, nothing in the room. The lack of personnel also had him confused. He knew that there were two guards stationed directly outside the door to his cell. He had heard them speak briefly to each other before another voice over what Shane surmised was their communication system silenced them. There had been no other words just the occasional whisper of feet readjusting position.

Shane knew that he obviously didn't have the big picture; too many things weren't adding up. The sound of a scuffle brought him back to his current predicament, hung on a wall with no good offense or defense.

-----------------

Niko stopped and pushed S'Kara flat against the wall. They had finally made it to the prison black holding Shane and found some guards in front of the one of the doors. In an odd sense, Niko was relieved. Their route to finding help had been easy, too easy. These two armed men were the only ones that they had encountered.

"Two guards in front of Cell E. Both are armed. I count a laser rifle and double pistol on guard number one located on your right. Guard number two is packing a pistol and two flash grenades. I would bet that both of them have weapons I can't see from here. I need a distraction." Niko whispered.

"I'll be your distraction," S'Kara volunteered. "I don't think a blind Rymean female would be nearly as intimidating as a Galaxy Ranger." Without waiting for Niko's agreement, S'Kara reached her hand to the wall and ran in the direction that Niko had indicated the guards stood.

"Please, please help," she cried stumbling slightly as she ran. "Anyone, I can't see. I'm blind! Please you have to help me." S'Kara purposefully ran toward the aura with the greatest sense of danger for Niko, the one broadcasting self-assurance and impulsivity. As she had hoped, her unsteady gait plowed her into guard number one without shots being fired. "Please," she cried again as rough hands tried to haul her to her feet. "You must help me."

"Get off of me, Rymean slut!" shrieked the guard who had been the recipient of S'Kara's ploy as he tried to free himself from her clawing hands.

"Jerk," S'Kara spat back harshly freeing one of the laser pistols from the guard's holster and ramming it in his face. The blow dazed him, and he fell back against the door.

As soon as S'Kara had started her distraction, Niko had followed staying low and to the periphery. While both guards tried to figure out how to deal with the sobbing Rymean, Niko tapped the less occupied guard on the shoulder. As he turned, she slammed her fist against his jaw and followed the motion with a roundhouse kick to his midsection. As he doubled over clutching his groin, Niko finished him off with a blow to the base of the skull.

Dazed, guard number one pushed himself away from the cell door and began to grapple for the pistol still lodged in S'Kara's hand. A flash of laser fire sliced down the hallway as the two struggled. Niko sidestepped the battle and tried to find an opening to help S'Kara. The tide turned quickly as the guard managed to gain dominance over the weapon, aiming pointblank at S'Kara's face.

"No!" screamed Niko eyes darkening to violet as the guard pulled the trigger. The bolt of energy that flashed from the muzzle was stopped in place. Niko bound the energy and deflected it into the air causing impact with the ceiling.

As the Niko removed the threat of the pistol, S'Kara took the opportunity to end her struggle with the guard. She kneed him hard in the groin and followed the same path that Niko had with the other guard. As the man grappled to protect his abdominal area, S'Kara drove her clasped hands into the delicate juncture of his neck and brain stem.

Breathing hard from exertion, both females stood in the corridor over the two insensate guards. S'Kara was the first to find her voice. "Not the cleanest distraction," she admitted ruefully and rubbed the side of her face where she imagined the laser would have impacted.

"No," Niko agreed, "but it's done. You okay?"

"No miraculous return of sight. But other than that, I'm uninjured." S'Kara turned to where she felt Niko stand and caught a sense of sulphur yellow seeping from the highly shielded pilot blue aura of the ranger. "I sense you are not so lucky."

"Shoulder hurts," Niko admitted lightly as she inspected the lock on the door. In reality, Niko's reduced dislocation was beginning to throb with the intensity she had felt when she had come to in her cell. She knew that further hand-to-hand combat would likely cause permanent damage.

While Niko examined the lock, S'Kara ran her hands over the two unconscious guards looking for keys or a remote. Instead she found two knives and a third pistol about the size of a derringer. "You were right on the arsenal," she commented pocketing the two knives and handing the firearm to Niko. "No key pass, remote, or anything else that felt like it might open a locked door."

Niko sighed in frustration and looked at the lock. She could probably force the door with telekinesis, but the idea of voluntarily calling on her psionics without the added boost of her implant still caused her trepidation. And, since they didn't know where they were or how long it would take to get help, she was hesitant to use her powers more than necessary. At least, they were becoming slightly easier to control. Either that or she was finally tapping out. She wasn't sure which thought bothered her more. Glancing at the ceiling scorch mark from the last blast and realizing that an alarm had probably already been issued, Niko decided swiftness beat finesse.

"Laser rifle, it is," she said and hefted the weapon in both hands. Aiming directly at the locking mechanism, she pulled the trigger. The big gun bucked slightly in her hands, but she compensated for its lift and fired three more times. Smoke rose from the laser impact frying the control panel and sheering the bolt from the door.

As the smoke cleared, Niko and S'Kara entered the room to find Shane Gooseman shackled to a wall. "Goose," Niko cried in relief and ran to the chained supertrooper.

"Ladies," Gooseman smiled back at the two women. "Bout time, I was getting a little tired of just hanging out here by myself."

"I'll bet," Niko agreed and looked at the mechanisms holding his arms in restraint. "Want to join the party?"

"Go," Goose agreed.

Niko aimed the rifle at the bolt attaching Goose to the wall and fired. The shot weakened the metal and allowed Shane to rend his chained arms from the wall and settle them at his waist. Blood poured into the supertrooper's circulation starved appendages causing uncomfortable needles of pain as sensation returned to his arms. "Want to take care of these too?" Shane asked ignoring his discomfort and bringing his arms once again above his head making the chain connecting his hands taut.

"My pleasure," Niko fired a second time breaking the manacles in two. While Shane briskly rubbed his arms to speed up the circulation recovery, Niko walked up to him and gave him a huge hug. She felt much safer after he returned the embrace. "Brought you a present," Niko murmured softly and held out the two laser pistols that she and S'Kara had pilfered from the sentries.

"Gee, and I didn't get you anything," Shane winked and set the weapons into his empty holsters. "You two all right?"

S'Kara peaked in from her position in the doorway where she was trying to drag one of the unconscious men into the cell. "These two goons will be out for awhile, but it would be a good idea to move them some place less conspicuous."

"I've got it," Shane volunteered and grabbed each man under the arm and hauled them both into the room leaning them against the far wall. "While I see about finding some way to secure these two, tell me what you know about our current situation."

Niko looked at S'Kara, and S'Kara turned to Niko. "You start," Niko encouraged gently.

Taking a deep breath and pushing as much of her emotions as she could from the surface, S'Kara began. "When we were attacked, the circuit board next to me surged and threw out an electrical flare blinding me. I woke up in a prison cell in the same block as Niko. While there, I had a visitor. RGelio and the Queen of the Crown have formed some kind of alliance. She is helping the clansmen restore themselves to power. RGelio thinks that she will save us from the persecution of our people. He doesn't realize the cost," S'Kara broke off as tears started to stream down her face.

Niko placed a gentle hand on the other woman's shoulder and took up the story. "I woke up in the cell as well. When RGelio and a slaverlord left, S'Kara and I managed to breakout and started looking for you. This might help," she offered holding out a large bent piece of metal to Goose to help secure the bindings that he was making from his broken chains. "This ship is strange, Shane. We didn't encounter any other crew members until we found your door. In fact, the whole ship feels deserted."

"I noticed that too," Gooseman agreed. "There was no warm reception from the Queen, no gloating guards, no general ship noise of any kind. In fact, given the laser fire, I had expected reinforcements here by now."

Unconsciously, they all looked to the empty hallway. "What now?" S'Kara asked.

"We find the others and take the bridge," Goose replied.

"Okay," S'Kara agreed. "Where do we start, Niko?"

Niko focused her mind to scan the ship looking for any signatures that resonated with her. "We have a problem," she said stumbling backward, a physical manifestation of applying her powers on such a large scale. "The others aren't on this ship."

Shane steadied Niko as she fell backward. His concern grew to alarm as he caught the fresh scent of blood. "Niko," he growled softly as his hand stroked the side of her face bringing away a crimson streak from the corner of her nose. "You're bleeding."

Niko didn't have a chance to respond as two figures garbed in flowing white robes rushed down the corridor along with a handful of armed guards. The reinforcements had finally arrived. Both she and Gooseman drew their weapons and trained them on the encroaching horde.

S'Kara sensed the approach of the troops. Her senses caught the auras of hostility, fear, and something else as the soldiers prepared to fire. "Gods of K'Lea," she whispered as she recognized a faint aural imprint muddied almost beyond recognition. "RGelio!"

Niko caught S'Kara's whisper of denial and looked to the slaverlords hiding in an envelope of protection by the surrounding guards. "Xanadu stars," she gasped, "Goose, the slaverlords are RGelio and Zachary!"


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

**1815 - Asteroid 437 Remus Asteroid Belt**

**169-2105**

In the recesses of a newly constructed, cloaked facility, the Queen of the Crown reclined in an opulent anteroom. In each of her hands lay a faceted red stone glowing brightly with contained power. The barely restrained energy surged around her form; too much force to be properly absorbed, but as of today, the waste no longer mattered. She had finally perfected the means to repair her crumbling empire.

In the beginning, the Gherkins had only been ugly, mostly useless creatures that were barely worth keeping as slaves to mine the starstones that powered her ships. One day while making an inspection of a rather unprolific mine, she had observed a unique, élan vital surrounding the Gherkins especially when they worked together. Since the creatures were not working to their potential while mining crystals, she began to wonder if there were ways to tap into the obviously underused psychic capacity that she had witnessed.

The first experiments had been crude and utter failures. She had been able to extract the life force, but her ability to absorb and utilize the energy left her spent and the test subjects dead. She needed to find a way to contain the energy and use it at her command not just during the transmutation process.

Because she lacked an appropriate hyper-relay transit system, she had begun to rely on astral projection to keep tabs on the outer perimeter of her still growing empire. The basic problem with astral projection, however, was the lack of corporeal function. If she determined there were problems, she was impotent to change them. In addition, when she was projecting her psyche, she left her physical body vulnerable to attack. She knew this to be the case since this had been the way she had eliminated the competition of her siblings for the royal crown. She needed a way to protect herself. A breakthrough came from an unexpected source.

During an excursion to an obscure talisman shop, she had discovered a crystal that could propel her astral form to distant locales. Although this method would not protect her physical form, it would eliminate the psychic stress that taxed her body. She would no longer need a rest period to regain her strength and could return to her royal duties with no one the wiser. She decided that if this crystal could enhance her psychic-sorcery, perhaps it might be altered to absorb psychic energies.

The first test had succeeded in containing life force essence, but the crystal had fractured in two pieces and had left the test subject, a Gherkin, as an empty body lying on the floor instead of vaporized to nothingness. Fearing the experiment a waste, she had started to throw out the useless fragments but stopped when holding a crystal in each of her hands had elicited a faint astral projection of herself. The image was maintained for two minutes before the crystal sections lost their faint glow, and the donor's body crumpled to dust. While not an unbridled success, the experiment had worked.

The Queen soon realized that one Gherkin didn't have the stamina to create the energy needed for her crystal enhancer. She began combining Gherkins and saw an exponential increase in the power that was contained in the crystal unit. Apparently, the stupid beasts needed each other to generate a synergistic, psychic force. Slowly, she began honing her technique until she was able to capture many life forces in one crystal. Once this was accomplished, she could create a psychic link to a physical projection of herself.

Because an exact physical replica was so draining, usually emptying the crystal entirely, she created a specter of sorts, an intimidating giant dressed from head to toe in white flowing robes. When necessary, she could embody the haunting figure with her face. The result was two-fold: a means not only of overseeing activities happening far removed from the throne but also of physically persuading changes to situations now well within her control. As an added benefit, the slaverlord, as she dubbed it, inspired respect and compliance in her subjects.

The success was fleeting, however. As time and distance increased, the slaverlords would drain the life force essence previously absorbed, and both they and their donors would dissipate. At first, it hadn't mattered, but some of the slavers she had created had given her such freedom to rule that she decided she needed to find a new way of sustaining them. On a whim, she attached one of the crystal shards to the body of the donor and discovered that keeping the physical body alive in stasis and in contact with its psyche could reenergize the crystal. Finally, the Gherkins had purpose. They would be batteries for the Crown Empire.

The system worked well until the Gherkins became over-hunted and by all accounts extinct. Those miserable beasts had found a way to cost her the outer holdings of her empire; both Kirwin and Andor had successfully defeated her attempt to bring them under Crown rule.

With her forces depleted and her reserve of Gherkins perilously low, she had withdrawn her troops to territories much closer to home. She considered it a strategic maneuver only, not a sign of weakness. She was determined to rebuild and strengthen her forces. To do that, she needed to find another species that would be compatible with her crystals.

It had been an amazing course of events that led her to humans. She had learned through her spies that Andor and Kirwin had invited a new species to join their little rebellion now calling itself the League of Planets. This new species mainly occupied a miniscule, little planet in the Sol system. This planet called Earth was where the humans had centered their martial government. No doubt the reason why Andor and Kirin had considered them in the first place was due to Earth's military advancements.

However, she soon realized that not all humans had decided to remain on their home world. With the gift of hyperdrive, some humans ventured to the stars in search of a quieter more agrarian existence or in some cases a less law enforced one. It was during a raid on Kirwin when she first sampled humans. But, it had actually been the capture of one by Captain Kidd that had provided her with her first test subject, Eliza Foxx. Until her encounter with the Rymeans, this had been the only species that she had encountered that could make a slaverlord with just one donor.

The Queen's eyes narrowed as she gazed at the beautiful, red, crystal trophy she kept near to her always. Eliza had provided her with such a taste for the human life force. Who would have thought in such a puny body one would find such psychic sustenance and zest for life? The loss of the other half of Eliza's psychocrystal aggravated her tremendously but not more than the loss of dear Zachary Foxx. Captain Foxx had been her most powerful slaver ever and had been lost in a matter of hours to those accursed Series Five Galaxy Rangers. Of course, today that had all been rectified.

The newest version of her psychocrypt was working even better than she had hoped. Now, the absorbed life-force energies could be fractured into three different facets of the same crystal. One remained attached to the life force donor; one adorned the slaverlord, and the final piece she controlled.

What two could do; three did even better. She now had greater control over the slaverlords. And now, even if the slaverlord's crystal were removed, she could still utilize the lifeforce energies of the remaining pieces. A battle with a slaverlord was simply a battle without any losses on her side.

**Time Unknown – Solitary Confinement Section Alien Ship**

**169 – 2105**

Gooseman aimed his dual pistols at the menacing horde of Crown Elite Troopers and two slaverlords. Although there were no physical manifestations of the slaverlords to give their identity, he knew from S'Kara and Niko's reactions that they were most likely his captain and the Rymean delegate. He had no more time to ponder the possibilities and what they meant as the Crown troops opened fire littering the small doorway with bolt after bolt of weapon fire. Using as much of the doorway as cover, Gooseman blindly returned fire.

Niko sunk low to the floor behind Goose and added her laser rifle to the mix. They were badly outnumbers and pinned down without a back door. After returning another shot, the ranger looked at S'Kara. She had been separated from them and now was weaponless on the other side of the aperture. There was little S'Kara could do armed only with the two knives she had relieved from the guards. Niko returned fire again and reached into her ankle strap and withdrew the other weapon they had confiscated.

"S'Kara," Niko yelled to be heard over the raining weapon fire. "The ground at your feet, two o'clock," she finished sliding the derringer on the floor in front of S'Kara.

Shane caught the exchange as he pulled back behind the doorway and raised an eyebrow at Niko. He wasn't sure that a gun in the hands of a blind cohort was the best course of action. He rethought his assumption when he saw the Rymean fire off a shot and catch a guard in the chest. The wounded trooper fell to the floor as another one took his place.

"Not bad, but we aren't making much headway here," Gooseman said firing off several more shots. "We need to do something before we run out of ammo. We'll be sitting ducks in this room."

"Flash grenade?" S'Kara suggested pushing her back against the wall.

"Beautiful," Gooseman agreed and accepted the third laser pistol that had been taken from the guard that S'Kara had rendered unconscious from Niko. Placing the pistol in reserve in his holster, he continued firing.

"And, since I can't see the flash, I'll just keep shooting," S'Kara proposed pulling the pin from the grenade.

"Even better."

"One, two, three," S'Kara threw the grenade as far as she could into the huddle of enemy auras. Upon hearing the detonation, she followed up firing her small laser pistol. The gambit seemed to work, but suddenly, S'Kara was off her feet and against the far wall clutching desperately at her throat.

"S'Kara," Niko called out anxiously as she saw her companion slide up the wall and enemy weapon fire resumed. "Goose, give me some cover," Niko demanded and without looking for confirmation from him ducked past the laser fire to S'Kara's side.

Niko had just made it within feet of S'Kara when the Rymean delegate pulled the trigger of the laser pistol of which she had managed to keep in her control. Niko dodged the laser but still felt the glancing blow singe across her upper arm. Following the laser, Niko's eyes widened in fear as she realized that the course of the weapon fire was aimed directly at one of the slaverlords. Knowing that a direct hit would destroy the life force trapped inside, Niko did the only thing she could.

Casting a shield, Niko tried to stop the projectile. Her timing off, she managed only to deflect it from the center of its target, and the laser impacted the chest of the slaverlord and grazed the crystal embedded within it. The white robed figure reached a garish purple hand to its chest and flickered in and out of existence for a moment. S'Kara released from her chokehold slid down the wall and lay motionless on the floor.

"Niko?" Gooseman shouted still providing cover fire and not having time see the drama unfolding behind him.

"We're okay," Niko answered quickly after seeing the rise and fall of S'Kara's chest indicating she was at least still breathing.

"I'm on my last set," Goose continued throwing away the two spent pistols and reaching for the pistol held in reserve.

Niko pulled out the last flash grenade from S'Kara's belt and gently moved S'Kara to a less open position. "I've got my laser rifle and S'Kara's derringer. We've got one flash grenade left," she explained running back to Shane.

Gooseman took his shot and felled another trooper. By his count, there were five troopers left as well as the two slaverlords. Dropping the last of his pistols to the ground, he took Niko's proffered derringer. Although the gun felt tiny in his hand, he knew that it would still have enough staying power to make their last stand possible. Squeezing Niko's hand for luck, he nodded.

"One, two, three," Niko said just loud enough for his ears. She threw a perfect arc into the remaining opponents and closed her eyes as the magnesium infused flash grenade ignited. She and Gooseman stepped out of the minimal protection the doorway offered and charged into the group. They used their weapons as they advanced eliminating two more Crown agents and then moved into hand-to-hand combat when their range diminished.

Niko jabbed the butt of her rifle into the solar plexus of one of the remaining troopers. Swinging it like a baseball bat, she slammed it down and across the unarmored junction of the mask faceplate and shoulder. As the guard fell, she ducked the grab of the wounded slaverlord and in one move pulled the crystal from the shrouds. The disconnection caused the slaverlord to vanish leaving only the crystal as its last trace.

While Niko pummeled the guards to the left, Shane handled the troopers on the right. He felt the stabbing jolt of a laser burn into his right thigh. The wound did little to stop him. He ripped away the pistol from a trooper and sent the guard flying into the back wall. The opponent didn't take the hint and came at the supertrooper once more. A volley of punches and jabs left the sentry unmoving on the ground.

Goose dodged the laser fire from another guard and landed a bone-crushing uppercut into the jaw plate. His protective mask flew off kilter, and the dazed guardian grappled for Shane's throat. Pushing his arms up and under the chokehold, Gooseman knocked the grip apart and pummeled his fists into the now unprotected stomach and abdomen. The damaged combatant slid down Goose's leg. Kicking him off, Shane ducked an uppercut directed at him by the other slaverlord. Using a sweep of his good leg, he knocked the slaver off balance and jerked the crystal from its place. Breathing hard, he looked back at Niko and held up the red gem.

Niko looked at the scorched leg of his pants. "Shane," she began.

"I'm okay, just a flesh wound," Goose dismissed her worry and glanced behind him in time to see S'Kara tentatively poke her head from the now demolished holding cell. "You all right, S'Kara?"

S'Kara rubbed absently at her neck. Dark fingerlike bruises were just beginning to show under the peach fur of her throat. "Fine," she muttered, "just wish I knew ahead of time that today was designated strangle S'Kara day."

"Niko?" Goose asked seeing the ranger rub her wounded shoulder.

"My dislocation isn't enjoying this work out so much," Niko admitted. Her fingers felt the rip of the fabric from where S'Kara's shot had impacted. A raised welted burn was also making its presence known. "We need to get to the bridge and figure out where we are."

Goose bent down and retrieved new laser weapons that the Crown troops no longer needed. Six of the troopers were dead, but there were four that still could cause problems if they woke up any time soon. "Let me secure these with the other two," he motioned to the unconscious men. "We'll arm up and head out."

"Niko," he warned as he limped into cell E pulling one of the guards behind him, "Stay away from those bodies."

**Time Unknown - Asteroid 437 Slave Containment **

**169 – 2105**

"You did what?" Doc asked incredulously and using the bars of his cell pulled himself to standing. The brief gesture of anger wasted his short energy supply, and he ended up slipping back to the ground.

"Keep you're shirt on," Nimrod growled back and then began giggling at his choice of words. "Or, not seeing as how bloody hot it is in here."

"I'm warning you, Nimrod!"

"Oh, and like it turned out so great for me?" the Leonid continued and sipped another draught from his chemically laced beverage. "It's not like I'm sitting pretty here?"

Doc looked over at his fellow prisoner and agreed, "Definitely not pretty. How did you manage to slip past security in the first place?"

"That, my dear ranger, is a trade secret. Besides the real question you should be asking me is why."

Ranger Hartford wiped a stray trickle of sweat from his temple and also took another sip from his cup. The sedative was potent. Within a few minutes of taking his first sip, he had felt his limbs grow heavy and awkward. Even monitoring how much he drank within a specific time period did little to offset the chemicals sapping his energy. "Very well," Doc continued realizing that he hadn't spoken in a few minutes. "Why did you go along with this scheme?"

"For the money!" Nimrod roared with unrestrained laughter.

Doc sat looking in astonishment at the captive feline. "You have a strange way of spending your ill-gained fortune."

"Oh, come now," Nimrod sobered quickly irritated that the Galaxy Ranger wasn't in on his joke. "I may be shallow, but even I have standards. I didn't do it just because of the money although the incentive the Queen gave me was indeed interest perking. I did it to help out."

Doc shook his head hard to see if that gesture would clear his mind. It must be the drug-induced stupor he was feeling that was causing him the inability to follow Nimrod's story. "Man, could you just tell your side of the story and stop with the spinning tangents that aren't getting us anywhere."

"I agree," a third voice concurred coming from the cell cattycorner to Doc's.

"Who else is here?" Doc asked suddenly realizing that the other cells in the block he thought were empty were actually occupied.

"GLark, here," answered the voice. "I think TFnik is next to you. From what I can tell, the rest of the crew from the CZemoras fills up the remaining cells."

"Is Zachary here?" Doc asked no one in particular and raised his voice. "Captain?"

"Quiet, you imbecile!" Nimrod urged. A clang of a door opening and then closing rang down the cell corridor. "Listen to me, all of you. Dump your drinks and go to sleep."

Usually, Doc would have ignored the advice of the Leonid, but something in the feline's voice spurred him to do exactly what he was told. Quickly, Doc dumped the remainder of his cup onto his already damp shirt. He decided that if this were a trap he'd at least be able to wring out the moisture later, and if it were not, he could use his wet clothing to help cool down.

Slow footsteps made there way down the length of the narrow corridor separating the walls of cells from each other. At each juncture, the footfalls would stop and a sound of a metal scraping on metal was made as something was picked up and something else put down.

Doc cracked opened his eyes when he heard a whisper of fabric stop in front of his cell. A white-garbed figure bent down and retrieved his empty cup. Two new containers were placed back on the ground just within reach from the bars. As the slaverlord was straightening, Doc managed to catch a good look at the crystal prominently displayed around the figure's neck. He could just make out the visage of what appeared to be a Rymean. _By the Heart of Tarkon,_ Doc inhaled sharply, _it's K'Baron._

As soon as the slaverlord left, Nimrod jumped to his feet and scurried over to the newly deposited containers. He let out a strange yelp of triumph and scooped up the bowl and pulled it protectively against his chest. Using two of his fingers like a spoon, he started shoveling the gruel like paste into his mouth.

Doc pulled himself to a seated position and reached his hand through the bars to pull his slaverlord spoils into his cubicle. He sniffed the contents of the bowl and immediately pushed it away as his stomach roiled in response. The other container held more of the most likely tainted water.

"What the grawl was that?" GLark asked once he was sure the white apparition had left.

"That was a slaverlord," Doc answered as he watched Nimrod finish off the gruel and begin to lick the bowl clean.

"A slaver-what?"

"Slaverlord," Doc repeated. "It is a construct of the Queen of the Crown. She has the ability to take the life force of different species and enslave them in crystals. The life force is used to serve the Queen while the body remains in stasis. In this case, I think it was K'Baron."

"That's barbaric!" GLark growled.

"Oh, and you'd know all about that," Nimrod accused licking his fingers clean.

"Watch it, Leonid!"

"What? Are you going to hunt me down too? Maybe you're just jealous that you didn't think of using the psychic energy of your brothers and sisters for your little confederation."

"We wouldn't do that."

"Wouldn't or couldn't? Maybe it was just easier to exterminate them."

GLark shot his arm through the bar of his cell in a futile attempt to wring his fellow prisoner's neck.

"Not so tough when you're locked up," Nimrod gloated and then turned his attention to Doc's still full bowl. "You going to eat that?" he asked hopefully.

Doc's stomach flip-flopped once again when he looked at the glop sloshing around the metal bowl, but rather than offering it to Nimrod, he simply put it on the floor between the two cells just out of reach of the Leonid. "This is how it goes down, Nimrod. For every truthful answer, I slide the bowl closer to you. For every cross tangent or lie, it comes back to me."

Nimrod's eyes sparked at the ranger's challenge. "You're learning, Ranger Hartford," he smiled, "You're learning."

**Psychocrytal Netherworld**

**169-2105**

Zachary wrapped his arms around his sleeping wife's body and snuggled closer into her. At this moment in time, he didn't think about the damage being done by his psyche still under the Queen's control. He knew it was selfish, but he didn't care; right now, he was a man not a Galaxy Ranger. He breathed in the scent of Eliza's hair and held the breath in his lungs. He moved his hands across her body and memorized every curve. He knew that his time with her was limited. Indeed, as he was leaning over to kiss her, he felt a time flux wash that ripped him from the red fogged pseudo-paradise and placed him behind a red glass pane focusing on a different existence.

Surrounding Zachary were a number of Crown Guardsmen and next to his slaverlord body was another slaverlord. Zachary could just make out the face of RGelio looking back at him. The look of horror and fear crossing the Rymean's face wrenched at Zachary's heart. RGelio probably had no idea what was happening to him. Unfortunately, Zachary was incapable of aiding him.

Laser bolts skimmed around the two white-cloaked figures as weapon fire was returned from a small alcove. Zachary's body stayed low, but he was able to make out the figures of Niko, Goose, and he thought S'Kara exchanging ammunition with guards surrounding him. There was a sudden burst of bright light, and Zachary was blinded for a moment.

Next to him, RGelio's slaverlord whipped out an arm and a red-violet burst of psychokinetic energy followed a path into the room where Niko, Goose, and S'Kara were pinned. Zachary watched helplessly as S'Kara was lifted from the floor like a limp doll and slammed into a back wall. She hung on the wall pinned by RGelio's telekinetic grip around her throat. Zachary stared into the crystal of the other slaverlord and saw the Rymean struggling with himself in an impossible battle to loosen his grip. A look of abject horror crossed RGelio's countenance when he realized that he was powerless to stop himself.

A flash of a laser bolt slammed into RGelio's slaverlord, and the telekinetic projection shattered. RGelio looked once at Zachary before his psychic essence collapsed to the floor of his crystalline cell. Suddenly, Zachary found himself firing a pistol that he wasn't aware he had in his hand into the room. He fought to no avail to turn the weapon on his own slaverlord projection.

Several guards began to drop from laser wounds, but neither they nor his slaverlord gave ground. Another bright flash knocked Zachary's slaverlord off-balance. There was chaos of weapon fire and then close range combat as Zachary watched Niko and Gooseman make a last stand. Zachary caught the disappearance of RGelio's slaverlord from the corner of his eye before his slaverlord attempted to punch an encroaching Gooseman.

Luckily, supertroopers are known for agility and speed. Zachary's fist swung way off target. In seconds, he saw Goose coming for him. He attempted an ill-fated counterattack but had his legs knocked out from under him. Zachary saw Gooseman's hand tear the crystal from around his cloak and felt his psyche slip back into the psychocrystal-induced haze.

Gulping back nausea, Zachary looked for his wife. The red-violet fog was thicker, different. "Eliza?" he called into the sound dulled air.

Silence greeted him.

"Eliza!" he yelled a second time; a wave of panic began to spread through him.

Again, he received no reply.

_Dear God_, Zachary sobbed realizing that when Goose took the psychocrystal fragment from the slaverlord, it severed the connection between his wife and him.

"ELIZA!" he screamed as despair crumpled him to the foggy ground.

_A/N: Special thanks to all of the reviewers. You certainly keep me inspired to keep writing and striving to perfect my craft. Keep an eye on my profile for upcoming chapter update deadlines. Regards. RL_


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

**Outside the Bridge of Alien Ship**

**169-2105**

Taking a quick peak down the hallway, Goose pulled back and looked at his companions. "All clear," he said and led the team to the main door of what he hoped was the bridge. They had traveled down several corridors in search of the main controls of the ship. Each door they had tried so far had been a disappointment, but the eerie quiet that spread throughout the ship was even worse. Since their shootout, they had encountered no crewmembers or technicians.

On edge from the lack of ship activity, Gooseman cautiously moved to the main door and triggered the motion sensor. As the door slid open, a gruesome scene of death and dismemberment assaulted the super trooper. For a split second, Goose stood slack jawed looking at the remnants of a battle gone very much awry before propelling himself into action. Although the super trooper had successfully shielded Niko from the unexpected sight, he had no power over the wave of death echoes freed when he had opened the door. Even as he physically pulled her from the room, Gooseman could feel the psychic beginning to tremble violently.

The loss of life slammed into Niko as one entity. Unprepared for the onslaught, she felt the deceased rip into her mind decimating what was left of her weakened defenses. Usually the psychic could separate herself from such destruction, but since her powers were uncontained, she had no active shields to deflect the raging emanations of souls violently torn from their physical hosts. With no physical connection anchoring her in the present, Niko was swept into the death throes of the ill-fated bridge crew.

"Niko. Niko, look at me!" Shane ordered placing both of his hands on each side of her face and forcing her to look into his eyes. He swore softly and fluently in three different languages when he saw her cloudy, dilated eyes stare unseeingly through him.

S'Kara stood motionless from her corner of the door. She saw the aura of the female ranger dim dramatically before turning a ghastly grey. The frantic voice of Ranger Gooseman and the wildly spinning colors of his own aura worried her. She could not physically see what had happened to cause this chaos, but the scent of death wafting through the newly opened bridge was very much part of the cause.

"Come on, babe, " Goose coaxed gently stroking Niko's face with his thumbs trying to break through the barrier of psychic shock with physical proximity. The sudden lack of movement from her alarmed him. She seemed frozen, and her skin had turned icy cold. Her pulse fluttered weakly at his fingertips, and then it too froze. "Niko," he begged. Feeling her vitality slipping away, he pulled her into a full-body embrace.

Through a macabre fog, Niko groped for the only sense of the living she could find. Clinging to the heartbeat and warmth holding her, Niko broke free with a slow, flickering blink followed quickly by a gulp of air. But, she had not freed herself and instead found herself tangled in Goose's mind.

She and Shane had touch telepathically once before, but he intentionally initiated the contact using his biodefenses to create psionic capabilities. At the time, she had recognized the flutter as him: a shade of orange merged with scents of leather, desert rain, coffee and cybersteed lubricant. This time their psychic merge was inadvertent and forced twisting her sense of Shane to an almost unrecognizable essence: hues of red streaked with violet blue, fresh linen sparked with cactus flower, java overpowered by the stench of scorched metal, an overwhelming taste of loss, coiling and palpable. Niko violently pushed away from him breaking the physical contact as well as the mental connection. In her escape to the confines of her own mind, she promptly fell against the bulkhead of the corridor

"Easy," Shane whispered catching her before she completely collapsed and helping her slide down the wall to sit on the floor.

"I'm sorry," Niko apologized allowing her head to fall onto her up drawn knees as she took a shaky breath. "I should…I should have…"

"What?" Shane asked emotions turning from fear to an angry relief. "Been prepared for that?" He was still reeling from the psychic rapport that had not been initiated by either one of them. The wrongness of Niko's psychic essence from the forced telepathic link was indelibly etched into his consciousness.

"Yes," Niko nodded still leaning her head against her knees refusing to look at him. The knowledge that she had gained from such an invasive psychic bond made her physically ill, and she had to gulp more air in an effort to suppress the nausea pushing into the back of her throat.

"Look, darlin'," Gooseman sighed running his hand through his hair in frustration, his anger vanishing along with the after effects of the psychic invasion. "None of us were prepared for that."

"He's right, Ranger Niko," S'Kara concurred kneeling next to Niko. She was concerned about the grey cast still radiating through Niko's aura. "I'm not sure what just happened, but from the grey and beige ghosts dissolving on the bridge, I can imagine. Ranger Gooseman," S'Kara turned her face to address the super trooper she sensed standing above them. "Can you tell me what happened on the bridge?"

"I'm not sure I have the words," Goose admitted. "And, even if I did, I'm not sure you would really want to hear them."

"I need to know," S'Kara implored. "I know it's bad; I can smell death and see the dissipating auras of the once living. But, without knowing, I can't help you and Ranger Niko."

Uncomfortable with the task S'Kara had given him, Goose stood motionless. Diplomacy was never his strong suit and words to describe what had happened to the bridge crew were anything but tactful.

"I can do better than that," Niko volunteered and pushed herself to standing, "I can show you." This activity would give her a means to focus on something other than the remnants of her encounter with Gooseman's raw mind.

"No," Goose growled. "You're in no shape…."

"Stop!" Niko interrupted with uncharacteristic vehemence. She would not be denied the chance to redirect her focus from what had just happened. She was in less shape to handle that. Rather than give a voice to those internal truths, she continued modifying her tone. "Look at us. None of us are in any shape to do much of anything. You're healing from a laser blast; S'Kara is blind; I have a dislocated shoulder and powers that may stop at a moments notice."

"I know you don't like this," she continued allowing herself to physically touch him even though she feared the ramifications of what that kind of physical connection might mean. Under the tentative contact, she could feel his forearm muscles cording tightly with diverted emotions. It was a physical manifestation with no seepage of psychic energy. Their break was clean. "This is something I can do. I was a psychic long before I agreed to the Series 5 implant. S'Kara and I already have a rapport; aiding her sight should be no more taxing. Now that I know what I'm up against, I will be able to control the link."

Goose looked hard at the psychic watching for any hesitation, even a second of wavering. He mentally reached for a sense of her, but found only the comfort of his own mind. When Niko didn't back down, he took a step back from his barricading position and allowed the two women access to the bridge. As soon as they entered the room, he allowed himself the briefest luxury of release by slamming his fist into the bulkhead.

Niko flinched when she heard the impact of flesh against metal but refused to derail her purpose. Neither she nor Goose could address the implications of the forced telepathic merge. And, now, was simply not the right time anyway. "This isn't going to be easy," Niko murmured turning her thoughts away from Shane and reaching for S'Kara's hands.

"Ranger Niko," S'Kara protested, "If this is too much, we can find another way."

"I didn't mean this would be difficult for me," Niko answered her voice projecting directly in S'Kara's head, "I meant for you."

S'Kara gasped as bright light filled with pulsating color appeared before her unseeing eyes. She stumbled slightly disoriented by the images flooding her mind, but Niko's grasp on her hands kept her upright. "By the Twelve Seas of Ryman," she breathed taking in the horror of the bridge with Niko's co-joined sight.

In her lifetime, S'Kara had witnessed death and destruction along with other horrors that one so young should never have seen. While she wasn't immune to deadly consequences, it was not the carnage that startled her. Nor was it the unnaturally vibrant colors of the red blood, darkening gore or colorless bodies. She was viewing the world through a human's eyes; the descriptors were different, but her brain was compensating for that alien translation. And, even though the way in which her brain was organizing the human's sight with her own aural sense was making quite an informational statement, it was her location and to whom the bodies belonged that shocked her.

**Psychocrystal Netherworld**

It could have been seconds, minutes, hours or days that passed while Zachary sat despondently in the swirling fog of the psychocrypt. Other than his brief stints as the Queen's minion, he had no way to gauge time. At this point, he would have welcomed a slaverlord jaunt rather than the nothingness that surrounded him.

_How Eliza has lived in a wasteland of nonexistence for three years… _He stopped himself refusing to go any further with that contemplation. The mere mention of her name, albeit as a thought in his own head, caused him such pain that he had been squashing the impulses as they formed. Up until now, he had been successful; this time he was not so skilled.

Mind refusing will, he continued down a "what if" existence that granted him only bleak speculation. _What if this entire experience is merely a construct of the Queen? What if I am this way the rest of my life? Perhaps I am already dead and this is the afterlife. _

Zachary pushed himself to his feet and began pacing. He needed some kind of physical activity, even if it were only a projection of himself that moved. He knew that if he continued playing what if scenarios, he would truly lose what tenuous grip remained on his sanity. He decided to focus on what he knew and leave the rest.

Ten steps, ninety-degree turn. _There is a way out of the psychocrypt. Gooseman has my half of the crystal. So, why the hell am I still here?_ Ten steps, ninety-degree turn. _This time is different. Why? _Ten steps, ninety-degree turn. _I didn't see Eliza last time._ Foot falter. It was no use he was going to have to think about her. She was part of this somehow.

Ten steps, ninety-degree turn. _ But I did see Eliza last time. She made a brief appearance during psychocrystallization. _Ten steps, ninety-degree turn. _A warning about what was happening, but this is so different. I not only saw her but, dear God, I could also feel her, taste her…_Ten steps, ninety-degree turn. _I haven't had these sensations before. I certainly never remembered what I did as a slaver. _Ten steps, ninety-degree turn. _Now not only do I remember, but I also see it as it occurs. _

Ten steps, ninety-degree turn. _Timing. Could it be timing? Last time, _ten steps, ninety-degree turn, _I was only a slaver for a short time before the others reconnected me with my body. _Ten steps, ninety-degree turn. _My body! I must not be close enough for them to reconnect the crystal halves._

Ten steps, ninety-degree turn. Boots.

_What the?_ Zachary was so taken aback by the new sensory information that he stopped short and stood staring at the shoe apparel before realizing that said boots were attached to a psychic manifestation of a body. Moving his gaze from the ground to eye level, Zachary found himself staring into the face of RGelio.

"RGelio?" he asked still unsure. He hadn't convinced himself that the image wasn't conjured from his damaged psyche.

The image of RGelio blinked once at the Galaxy Ranger Captain before he slumped forward. Zachary reacted quickly catching the Rymean before he fell and eased him gently onto the foggy ground. "RGelio?" Zachary called again shaking the feliniod. His efforts were rewarded when RGelio's yellow eyes cracked open.

"Captain Foxx," the Rymean croaked brokenly and slowly pulled himself to a semi-seated, semi-reclined position all the while waving off Foxx's efforts to support him. "You are here."

"Yes." Zachary agreed ruefully. "As are you, it appears."

"Yes. Do you know what happened?"

"The Queen of the Crown," Zachary began but was interrupted.

"No, I know firsthand of the treachery of the Queen," RGelio grimaced with more than a trace of disgust and pulled himself to sit fully upright. "I want to know what happened after."

The Rymean did not need to provide more information as Zachary knew the "after" was in reference to psychocrystallization. "Why don't you tell me what you know, and I'll fill in the blanks," he suggested.

RGelio's normally tan fur remained a muted greyish-brown, but he appeared to stabilize. "Very well," he sighed, "but you're not going to like it. I've known about the Queen of the Crown's involvement for some time. She has been working with us."

RGelio didn't see the flash of movement as Zachary's fist impacted against his jaw. The Rymean flew sideways from the blow, and he was barely able to keep himself from falling prone to the ground. "Go ahead," he invited the ranger captain as he watched the human balling his fists for another strike. "It is certainly no less than I deserve."

Zachary reeled in his anger and shook his head even though the thought of a rout was a welcoming one. It would not solve anything. Although the confession of working with the Queen had set him off, he wasn't too angry to hear the self-loathing permeating RGelio's words.

"Look, RGelio," Zachary growled, "if this story is you whining about the Queen of the Crown reneging on an agreement, save it. That bitch stole my wife from me. It would have been better if she killed Eliza outright. But, no, she decided a trophy slaverlord suited her purposes. Eliza has been neither dead nor living for three Sol years. Trapped in this, whatever the hell this is. If you think that I have any compassion for you on a deal gone wrong, you are sadly mistaken."

RGelio rubbed his aching jaw and regarded the human. "I don't need your pity or your permission, captain. Your plight is indeed heinous, but it has no bearing on Ryman IV."

Zachary looked as if he might haul off and strike the Rymean again but held his tongue. He knew he was emotional about Eliza, and that wound had been opened and rubbed raw with their recent reunion turned rending. Instead, he walked away to regain some composure.

"Your compassion is as effective as your diplomacy," Zachary muttered under his breath. Pinching the juncture of his brow and nose in an impossible attempt to ward off a growing headache, he spoke louder in a voice that sounded like he was issuing an order. "Finish your story, RGelio."

RGelio's ears flickered at Foxx's quiet dig. The human had forgotten about Rymean enhanced hearing. Rather than acknowledge the comment, RGelio complied with the request. "As I said, I knew about the Queen's involvement." The Rymean paused as he gauged the body language of the human. The Queen was a red button topic, but as fate would have it, she was the center point as well. The captain tensed like an over-spun coil but remained poised in an angry calm. "How much do you know about Ryman IV's history, captain?" R'Gelio asked changing topics.

Zachary snorted derisively as he turned to look at the feliniod. "I know all about your civil war, RGelio. We were all briefed heavily about the atrocities that you have endured," his sarcasm was thinly disguised.

"Please, captain," RGelio shot back, "I know that you are not an ignorant human. Don't deign yourself to treat me as such either. What is it your old Earth philosopher said, 'those who refuse to learn from history are doomed to repeat it.'"

Zachary looked at the Rymean and felt the urge to pummel him rise to the surface. Grinding his teeth to keep from actually lashing out at the audacity of this thing quoting Earth philosophy, Zachary nodded for RGelio to continue.

"We began as a blood thirsty, vicious people ripping control of the planet through a similar survival of the fittest that you humans accomplished. Even when our species became the dominant force, we continued to engage in blood sport, weeding out those unfit to rule, serve, live. I'll spare you the details."

"Anyway, like you humans, we realized that we were going to kill our species off unless we chose to rise above our ferocious past. The choice to evolve led to an extended period of enlightenment. We made great strides creating a civilization based upon a newfound spirituality. As our peaceful relationship with our planet grew so did our knowledge base: industry, science, art, philosophy, government, the list is extensive."

"Too bad you didn't simply repeat that past," Zachary hissed softly.

RGelio ignored that slight and continued, "We became a great civilization. Our prosperity yielded to space travel, and we set off to other worlds to discover what else was out there. In doing so, Ryman IV became a central point in space travel. We traded supplies and merchandise with numerous worlds and existed peacefully as an oasis for others that needed respite from their own war torn worlds. Ryman IV was a powerhouse an example to others. But, as you humans have said, 'power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts absolutely.'"

"Stop quoting my history," Zachary grated angrily. "I know it; and knowing that you know it, isn't helping your story. Stick with the facts and stop making allusions that you are just like humans."

"Oh, captain," RGelio chuckled emptily, "I am not saying that we are like you. Our histories are similar and comparisons have been made not only by me right now but also by your own politicians. I just want you to realize that your species has made mistakes as well. Don't let your righteous indignation hamper your understanding of what has happened."

"As I said, Rymeans evolved to a pacifist civilization, but we also evolved as a species. Psionic powers began to present themselves leading to a speculation that some Rymeans were gaining ground not because of who they were but what they could do. Those in power wanted to keep it that way, and suddenly Ryman IV was plunged back into the dark, blood sport and all."

"Look, RGelio, I know that the ten year civil war is a black spot on Ryman IV and a blow to what your people were, are and could still be. But, to turn to the Queen of the Crown, as a means of what, revenge, protection?"

"Forgive me, Captain, for I am about to quote your own history again. When your people started to develop extrasensory perceptions, they suffered as well. Earth's government hunted them down and forced them into military service. Those that were either unable to be trained or too powerful to control were either drugged, subjected to psionic termination, or well, I'm not sure if you all ever did admit it but, to extermination."

"We never turned to the Queen of the Crown," Zachary stated evenly.

"No, but those oppressed very well might have."

"I doubt it."

RGelio ignored the captain's assertion. "Everyone believed that Ryman IV was looking to rebuild put its past aggression on its own people aside. The Confederation held peace summits and made claims that the populace was reconnecting and that remuneration was being made to the psychics that had suffered so much. It was a lie."

"Impossible," Zachary denied. "The League of Planets would never have accepted Ryman IV unless the ceasefire and treaties were in effect. You plead Ryman IV's entrance yourself."

"If I'm capable of striking a deal with the Queen of the Crown, don't you think I am capable of lying to your precious League?"

At Zachary's silence, RGelio continued. "Not that I was in favor of lying to the League of Planets, mind you. The League was really the one chance that we had to survive the Confederation. But, most of the political agendas within your alliances' governing body were more suited to the Confederation.

"We had been completely cut off from the cities. The refugee camps were overcrowded and the living conditions worse than substandard. Psychics were dying in massive numbers daily. An agreement with the Confederation and the Clan Council to seek League of Planet status at least provided emergency aid for basic services.

"The Confederation is terrified of the Clan Council. They would rather continue the war and wipe out the psychics than find a resolution. The only reason they pretend to be seeking peace is for League protection. They knew the Queen of the Crown had interest in Ryman IV. She had conducted a series of raids during the tumult of our civil war.

"If the Confederation had even tried to uphold some of the policies designed in the first peace summit, even just a few concessions, this whole thing could have been avoided. But they did not."

"Why didn't you go directly to the League? Tell them what was happening. They would have helped you," Zachary stated.

RGelio cracked a sad smile at the captain's beliefs. "Your ideas of the League are quaint. There are members of the League that are interested in Ryman IV for their own purposes. Those motivations include removal of the psychics on my planet."

"Impossible. Andor and Kirwin have no such political agendas."

"True enough. But Andor and Kirwin are only founding members and no longer comprise the majority voting power of the League of Planets. If you trust nothing else I say to you, Captain, know this, the Clan Council was more than divided on acquiescing to the Queen.

"We knew that a peace would be hard won and that in its infancy things might get worse before getting better. We were even willing to risk more losses if it meant freedom as the end result. But when we entered negotiations with the League and the Confederation, those headpieces of the Confederation adorned every member on the committee. We knew that our justice was not a consideration."

"And the Queen offered what?" Zachary asked.

"The Queen had a price, a high one. But, it was a price that would eventually yield us a chance to survive. A League inspired Ryman Confederation would offer us nothing but more of the same."

Zachary looked in disbelief at the feliniod. "You seriously believe that?"

RGelio nodded.

"You know, for all of your spouting of human rhetoric, I find it interesting that you ignored one of our better-known proverbs, ''better the devil you know than the devil you don't.'"

"We did what we thought was best."

"Yeah," Foxx said sweeping his arm to represent the red-violet fog surrounding them. "How is that working out for you and Clan?"

RGelio closed his eyes in the hopes that he would not see the string of betrayals that had occurred with the Queen. The action only intensified the images of the entire Clan Council chiefs being wiped out on the bridge of the Rymea, his own psychocrystallization, and S'Kara's death by his own hands. "Worse than you could possibly know," RGelio whispered wiping at the trickle of moisture pooling in his eyes.

**Asteroid 437 Slave Containment **

**169 – 2105**

Doc Hartford watched the snoring Leonid with contempt. The words that had come pouring out of Nimrod at the prodding by the other captive members of the Rymean delegation still rang hauntingly in his ears.

_The Queen had made a deal with the psionic Rymeans to end the Confederation Government. Over half of the population would be payment in full for her assistance._ Hartford still couldn't wrap his head around the concept. He knew that the psionic Rymeans had endured a holocaust of sorts. But to voluntarily hand over half the population of a world? _The insanity…_

During a heated argument with the crew from the CZemoras, Nimrod had defended the Clan Council. He had intimate knowledge of the atrocities the Confederation had committed against its own people from torture to genocide. The examples and people named had been in greater detail than any briefing Doc or the other rangers had been given. As a betting man, Doc guessed that it was more information than what had been presented to the League of Planets and had said as much.

That statement had brought a whole other issue to light. Nimrod had made allegations about misconduct and downright criminal actions of some of the members of the oversight committee designed to handle the acceptance of Ryman IV into the League. When countered with criticism and outright denial, Nimrod had sung like a Queen memory bird spouting off names, places, situations, ad nauseam, so much in fact that Doc had no reason not to believe him. Which, of course, led to the unalienable truth, he and his fellow colleagues and probably most of BETA had been duped into this whole catastrophe.

If Nimrod's accusations hadn't been hard enough to swallow, the details that Nimrod enumerated about his assignments from the Queen sealed the deal. Somehow he had broken through BETA security and gained access to the lab facilities. Using nanotechnology, he infiltrated the portable recharging unit and corrupted a basic construct causing the device to emit more than the usual alpha radiation charge.

The Series Five implants absorbed the extra radiation yet never indicated that they were being overcharged. The plan was that the implants would burn out from the excessive energy. Nimrod could not explain why the implants were still working. He had been told that once recharged, the rangers would be taken out of the game. In fact, they were supposed to have been taken out back on Arkansas2.

Doc leaned back further against the wall of his cell and closed his eyes. He had weaned himself off of the tainted water and was trying to figure a way out of his current situation. _ One thing is for certain, when I get out of here, I'll have more criteria to add to my list of reasons why not to become a Galaxy Ranger._

The crew from the Czemoras had been unusually quiet since Nimrod had finished with his graphic story. _I guess, once they found out that Nimrod is loosely related to RGelio, distant cousins or something, they didn't have a leg to stand on. They certainly clammed up after he named names of members of the oversight committee. _

_As disturbing as all of those political agendas are, I have to focus on the here and now. Like what does the Queen plan to do with us? Where are the other rangers? And, how do I get out of here before I find the answers to one and two._

Reflexively, Doc's hand grazed what was left of his implant activator. Obviously, when he had been captured, the badge, CDU, and wrist comm had been confiscated. Doc left his hand to fiddle with the clasp hard wired to his uniform and watched a camera in the hall make a sweep of the corridor. He wasn't sure that the camera was even being monitored given the heavy reliance on drugs and slaverlord personnel to incapacitate and guard the prisoners.

Every thirty minutes or so, a slaverlord, usually K'Baron, made rounds. Each time, as instructed by Nimrod, the captives would fake sleep or at least grogginess. So far, the gambit had worked with the exception of Glark being removed on the last pass. Doc could only assume that the Rymean was visiting the psychocrypt or worse if there were a worse. Obviously, the Queen was happy with her new acquisitions or else he would have visited the crypt himself by now.

Since Glark had been the only one taken, Doc had deduced that the camera weren't being monitored closely. Otherwise, the personnel would know that the captives had been faking their slumbering conditions.

A particularly loud snort caused Doc to look back at the Leonid. Nimrod was not faking at this point. _Stupid schmuck, didn't realize that the gruel was laced as well. That or he didn't care anymore. Given how thin he is, I bet he's been given less to subsist on in the past two or three weeks he's been a patron of her Highness's Palace of Pleasure._ Doc couldn't decide whether he was furious with the feline or felt sorry for him. At the moment, however, it didn't matter.

Inadvertently, Doc's hand managed to disconnect the depression plate from his uniform. '_That's not supposed to happen,'_ he thought as he looked at the metallic pieces in his hand. He palmed them as the camera swung for another pass of the prison cells. Once secluded again, Doc took a closer look at the remnants of the device. _Hmm, with a little tweaking, _Doc smiled for the first time since he came to consciousness in the prison block.

"I'll have to make sure to send a thank you card to Mrs. Abercrombie," Doc murmured softly to himself.

**A/N Special nod to authors: Elizabeth "Fatima" Bales, The Skoli: Gaea and AK Kniggendorf, Droidal Affair for inspiring my interpretation of Niko's psychic handling of death trauma.**


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine**

**1015 – Executive Staff Offices – BETA Mountain**

**170-2105**

Commander Joseph Walsh examined the most recent findings of the investigation of the disappearance of the K'Lathia and CZemoras supplied to him on a vid-file by the captain of the Andorian vessel, Pi2. The words were emotionless and concise. "Wreckage indicates explosion of two vessels: rate of dispersion eighteen to twenty-two hours post explosion, mass equivalent to two Rymean mid-size cruisers consistent with K'Lathia and CZemoras descriptions provided. Organic matter particulates found indicate loss of sentient life. Estimated loss and genetic origins undeterminable at this juncture. Further analysis pending."

Although he had lost count of the number of times he had read through this report, Walsh stopped as he always did at that point and lay the file back down on his desk. He walked around the large counter. Leaning against the desk's side, he stood and stared at an aquarium occupying half of one of his office walls. His thoughts wandered as he watched the aquatic animals move about their enclosure.

_Impossible, _he sighed to himself with a mixture of anger, frustration, and helplessness. _I would know if they were dead. I would know._

The vidcom on the large desk interrupted his thoughts with a small ping. Ignoring the briefest inclination to disregard the communication device, he leaned over and pressed the button to answer, "Walsh."

"Commander," his secretary spoke. He could hear the apology disguised discreetly in her voice as she continued. "Tactical Commander, Dr. Owen Negata is here to see you."

"Send him in," Walsh replied already steeling himself for a visit he was expecting but not particularly prepared. He moved to take his traditional place behind his desk before the mechanical sled that housed what was left of Owen Negata's essence entered the room.

"Joseph," the brain unit said in greeting to the commander.

In that brief salutation, Walsh could determine the nature of the visit, personal or professional. Personal. Somehow he would have welcomed the latter. "Owen," Walsh returned the pleasantry and indicated that Negata move further into the room.

"You know why I am here?" the mechanical voice questioned.

For a moment, Walsh was transported back to a time when Negata was a man not a carcass left to simmer in a vast of nutrient rich liquid. He missed the German burr in his friend's voice, but that had been taken when Graveyard had ripped him apart, the dark day the super troopers had gone insane.

Even a brusque German accent would have been gentler than the hollow tones of the mechanical intonation. Sighing softly, Walsh pushed his chair back from the desk and regarded his longtime friend and ally. "You've read the report?"

"Indeed. All indications are that the Clan Council has committed an act of terrorism not just on their own people but on the League as well. Appropriate measures must be taken."

"He's not dead," Walsh said resolutely.

"Joseph," the machine warned as the sled shimmied slightly in mimicry of a human uncomfortable with where the conversation was headed. "They sent me here for a reason, but I came for my own."

"I don't care that they found traces of the unique metal composite used in the badges the Series Five were issued. I'm telling you they are not dead. He is not dead. I would know."

"The situation on Ryman IV is escalating. We've received data indicating mass panic and violence. Walsh, they want me to relieve you of duty if you disregard the evidence," the mechanical voice continued, made more matter of fact by the non-emotional, computerized verbalization.

"I know better than to put you in that position, Negata," Walsh bristled returning to the use of surnames. "I've already dispatched the Hidalgo to Ryman IV. I've asked Captain Zan of the Pi2 to remain for more analysis of the wreckage and to verify ionic trails leaving the area. Both captains agree that the Pi2 will not be in danger continuing the investigation. In fact, the Andorian crew is probably in less danger there than if they were to continue traveling with the Hidalgo."

"I believe the Oversight Committee will find that favorable," the brain unit agreed and began a slow rhythmic hover from one side of the room to the other.

"If I didn't know you better, Owen, I'd swear you were pacing."

"Even encased in machinery, old muscle memories persist," agreed the sled slowing to a stop and turning to face the commander. "How do you know?"

Walsh knew the question was in reference to the Series Five and followed the transition. "My gut," he answered honestly.

"Joseph, DNA doesn't have emotional components."

That statement hit home, and Walsh looked sharply at Negata. "It might have started out that way. God knows that was not my first choice. Hell, it wasn't my choice at all. He is all I have left.

"Whether genetics make a connection or not, I've forged one. And, until I get undeniable proof and know exactly what happened, I finally get to choose. He is not dead."

"Wheiner is on the Oversight Committee. He's watching you. He will make this part of his vendetta."

"Wheiner be damned. He should know that I'm watching him as well. Checks and balances. Every time a stinking pile lands on my doorstep, Wheiner has his foot firmly planted in it."

The sled dipped slightly as almost a nod of agreement and then moved to the door. "Keep me posted, Joseph. I've been part of this longer than I choose to admit. My investment, while not as keen as yours, is with your team as well."

Commander Walsh looked at the door in the wake of Negata's departure and closed his eyes. Prayer wasn't something he engaged in or truly believed. 'You make your own path in life' was the mantra of his creed. However, sometimes it didn't hurt to extend and hope.

**0515 - Asteroid 437 Remus Asteroid Belt**

**170-2105**

Stretching luxuriously on fine linens, the Queen of the Crown opened her eyes and began to purr rapturously. She had won. Sure all of the pieces were still falling into place, but she was confident in her plan. She could barely contain her delight. With all of the trials and tribulations she had fought at the hands of the humans, she deserved to enjoy her success.

Her hand reached for the golden tiara nestled on the nightstand of her boudoir. Smoothing her hand over her close-cropped, raven hair. She set the crown on her head and felt only the weight of triumph not the defeat she had suffered so many times in the past. She had found the humans greatest weakness and turned it to her advantage.

Smiling fiendishly, she glanced at the psychocrystals she had given a place of honor in her most private domain. Eliza Foxx's crystal held the strategic central position and glittered silently amid the other accumulated conquests. Surrounding that crystal, interestingly the largest of the gems, were the crystal shards of RGelio and Zachary Foxx. The Queen's eyes danced across the red facets in unbridled satisfaction, and then her gaze turned hard and furious.

"What's this!" she demanded her contentment flashing to sharp rage as the gems of RGelio and Zachary glowed softly.

"Impossible!" The Queen shouted as her fingers grazed the cool surface of the crystals and quickly determined the reason for the defiant gleam of the trapped psyches. "That little scheming psychic bitch and her test tube companion are on their way," she snarled. "I should have killed them outright." But instead, she had relished in diminishing and trying to break their spirits.

"They never should have left the ship that had been sent spiraling into that dwarf star. And, I was willing to give up some of RGelio and Captain Foxx for that honor," she muttered angrily to herself.

A finger dressed by a sharp, deep red nail depressed the communication pad of a device resting on a console. "Captain," she growled.

"Yes, Your Highness," came the immediate reply.

"Accelerate the time table," she ordered and cut channel before listening to his reply. If those accursed rangers weren't going to play by the rules, she was going to have to change them. She slid into a high backed chair and mentally reviewed her plan. Her right foot bobbed up and down with impatience as she reevaluated her terms.

**0715 – Uncharted Territories – Sector Thirteen Quadrant Six**

**170-2105**

Shane Gooseman looked out the main portal of the small ship with focused eyes. Finally, they were on the right track. Maybe they were not traveling in style on the bridge of the battleship they had left an hour ago, but at least, it was a space worthy ship with working navigation and life support systems.

He glanced at his two companions and winced softly as he saw S'Kara rub absently at her wrist while settling more comfortably in her chair. He hadn't intended to grab her arm so hard or so forcefully, but he had been acting on Niko's behalf. S'Kara had assured him that she understood, but he couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt as he saw the swelling persist.

-----------------

S'Kara stood amid the destruction of the bridge and filtered through the images being fed to her by the human psychic. She was disoriented and disturbed. She swung around trying to take in the complete circle of the bridge to make connections that were impossible. Her momentum took one of her hands from Niko's hold, but Niko only needed a single point of contact to keep her vision connected to S'Kara's.

"S'Kara?" Niko asked a little off-balance and troubled by the thoughts the Rymean was broadcasting across their bond.

"Just a moment," S'Kara answered still flitting around and trying to put the pieces together in a coherent format. Each male and female she laid her eyes upon was recognizable. "Gods of K'Lea," she breathed and leaned over to touch the face of a body collapsed against the navigation console.

A lightning quick hand closed around S'Kara's wrist and jerked her away. The abruptness of the change of motion made her falter and lose her contact with Niko completely. The disconnection plunged S'Kara into a strange darkness broken only by aural imprint. Almost immediately, the grip loosened and steadied her before completely letting go.

Gooseman released his viselike grasp on the delicate bones of the Rymean's wrist and growled. "Don't touch." Amending his dangerous tone, he explained further, "If you make contact with the bodies right now, Niko will too."

"Of course," the feliniod agreed quickly and gently touched the tender skin reddening under the fur of her arm. "I'm sorry, Ranger Niko, I wasn't thinking."

Niko glared at Gooseman until he finally met her eyes. He shrugged his shoulders and stepped away. If he were in the same situation again, he would do the same thing. He wasn't about to have a repeated performance of Niko communicating with the dead no matter what kind of altercation ensued.

Turning back to S'Kara, he asked, "Your wrist okay?" Seeing the feliniod nod, he continued, "If you need any heavy lifting, say the word."

Niko stepped past Shane and touched S'Kara's shoulder gently. "We can try again," she suggested.

"It's not necessary, Ranger Niko," S'Kara replied squelching the emotion in her voice as best as she could. "I know where we are."

Niko and Goose traded glances, but neither of them spoke.

"We are standing on the bridge of the Clan Council's ship, Rymea, the crown jewel of their small space fleet. I've been on this ship twice before once while it was being built off world in secret from the Confederation and the last time on its maiden voyage. I had the honor of helmsmen.

"The Rymean that Ranger Gooseman kept me from moving, which I am so sorry for putting you in danger, Ranger Niko, is my childhood friend Minerza." S'Kara swallowed down a wave of sadness and carefully blocked the empathy radiating from the psychic ranger.

"Everyone on this bridge, sans us, was a major chieftain in the Clan Council. When RGelio had said that he and the Clan had agreed to the Queen's demands, I had no idea it was of this magnitude." S'Kara's voice dropped and she walked away from the two humans. The realization of the treachery of the Clan and the Queen was almost too much to bear. "Perhaps, they realized the price was too great," she murmured to herself.

Niko watched S'Kara move away feeling her pain of loss and betrayal completely. She glanced at Gooseman and then looked pointedly at the body designated as Minerza. Without a word of communication, Gooseman quietly moved the body from the navigation controls and gently placed it to rest in one of the far corners. He looked back at Niko and indicated with his eyes that she should speak with S'Kara while he removed the other bodies to this spot now designated as a morgue.

Niko slowly walked to where S'Kara was standing knowing that the Rymean could not see anything more than aural light. She mustered as much calm and reassurance as she could, but S'Kara stopped her before she even began.

"Ranger Niko," the stress in the feliniod's voice was minimally contained, "I know that you mean well. But, I can barely handle my own grief and pain; please do not add to it."

Niko swallowed hard and tried not to take S'Kara's words personally. She had always prided herself in the control she displayed regarding her talents. When the implant surgery had occurred, she had worked even harder to master the boosted powers and control them, following the cardinal Law of Xanadu to the letter. Now, she could no longer fall back on that relied training: her mind was not strictly her own. Moving slightly away from S'Kara to minimize the bleed of transference of her psionic nature, she continued toward a conversation with the grieving Rymean.

"I will do my best to respect your privacy and give you whatever space I can," Niko began. "You already know how sorry I am for your loss and this situation. I can only tell you that in the end, it appears your comrades knew of the Queen's evil intent and fought back as best they could. I know that seems like an empty sentiment, but, S'Kara, this only proves you correct. The Queen will destroy your people, gifted or not. She has to be stopped, and it seems that we are the only ones in a position to do so. Will you accept a merge with me, rejoin our sight, so that we may find a way out of this and perhaps a way to help Ryman IV?"

S'Kara held her hands out to Niko in acceptance. Once again the psychic weaved a bond between them. It was subtler this time as Niko guarded even more against her transference of emotions. As parasitic as the relationship appeared to the outsider, using most of Niko's talents to form and maintain the communication, the rapport was truly more symbiotic. S'Kara was gaining the benefit of Niko's telepathy and physical sight, but Niko was receiving aural insight and the soothing healing of a master clairvoyant in return.

S'Kara looked again at the bridge of the Rymea and turned a grateful smile to Ranger Gooseman. Goose's returned nod was barely perceptible, and he quietly moved to the navigation console and took the seat. "I'm not sure what imprint may remain on the navpad," he explained quietly not willing to remind S'Kara of personal issues but making it clear that he would need to be the lead.

S'Kara's small nod of agreement still sent waves of grief through her bond with Niko, and Niko carefully deflected the pain to a more neutral place. "It would be faster if I manned the computer, but I understand your hesitation. See if you can pull up the main view screen. Let's see where we are going."

In a few minutes, under S'Kara's guidance, Gooseman was able to activate the Rymea's main screen flooding the room with intense, solar light.

-----------------

Goose rolled his neck muscles and settled back into his chair. It was pointless to think back to the dire situation on the Rymea. They had been lucky enough to find a small transport ship and escape. With the Rymea's navigation controls locked and inoperable, the shields and life support beginning to fail, and the gravity of the dwarf star starting to affect their course, there had been little time and no other options. A few minutes more and this small vessel wouldn't have had the engine power to break free either.

Gooseman's eyes traveled to the third occupant in the small craft. After fashioning a crude sling from the bandana he usually wore around his neck to help immobilize her shoulder dislocation and after distributing the rations they had found in the emergency kit, Goose had ordered Niko to rest.

Niko, more stoic than he could ever remember, had informed him that she would rest when time permitted. However, for the time being, she would be acting as their navigator.

He had argued, probably more forcefully than necessary, but he had to since Niko couldn't see herself. She didn't see how her features were drawn and eyes hooded with exhaustion, her pale skin almost translucent from stress with only a slight flush high on her cheekbones to give her any hint color. But, as with the argument against the first co-joined sight experiment, this one went in her favor as well. At least, he had made his objections known.

A gentle glow caught his eye as he watched as Niko hovered her hands over the two psychocrystal remnants of Zachary's and RGelio's slaverlords. He saw her tentatively lower her palms to touch the faceted faces and caught the sudden rigidity to her features.

"Niko," Gooseman growled and swallowed the unexpected relief when he saw the psychic instantly dissolve her connection with the gems.

S'Kara too saw the strange glow only from an aural indicator. She gasped as echoes of RGelio's essence washed into her. Since their merge, she and Niko remained connected on a low level. The sensation vanished almost as quickly as it had come.

"Ranger Niko?" she queried.

Niko attempted to hide the concern in her voice and answered both of her companions. "I'm having some difficulty locking onto RGelio," she admitted. "He seems off; there is some kind of interference."

"What about Zachary," Gooseman suggested.

"Yes," Niko agreed, "I think I can locate him." She glanced at S'Kara and attempted a reassurance she hoped sounded genuine. "Zachary is a friend and colleague; we have a stronger connection."

"Of course," S'Kara replied appearing to be mollified by the explanation.

Gently, Niko picked up the psychocrystal housing Zachary Foxx's essence and tried again. It was faint, but she could follow the path. "We need to head back to the Remus Asteroid Belt," she said softly.

Glad to have something to do, Gooseman quickly plotted a course with the aid of the navigation computer. He quickly looked back up at Niko when he scented subtle changes in her, sweat mixing with the metallic odor of blood. He growled low in his throat and knew she was aware of his knowledge.

"I'm going to take that rest now," Niko said with a lightness she didn't feel. "S'Kara, you should do the same. You can relieve Goose in a couple of hours." Niko didn't bother to turn to see S'Kara nod her agreement; she had already felt it.

Leaning back against her chair, Niko surreptitiously wiped away the tickle of moisture running down her upper lip. Her hand came away streaked with crimson. _Damn. I'm not sure how much more of this I can take._

Discreetly, she looked at the psychocrystal containing the remnants of RGelio. The gem's face was crisscrossed with tiny fractures almost imperceptible to the human eye. They were the reason she could not focus on the Rymean delegate. She hid that knowledge deep inside her mind and locked it from transferring across to S'Kara. Glancing at Gooseman, Niko finally closed her eyes but not before reading the worry buried deeply in the super trooper's posture.

**0445 - Asteroid 437 Slave Containment **

**170-2105**

Ranger Walter Hartford grinned as he looked at the tool that he had pieced together from the mechanical depression plate. It was crude, but the beauty of it was its size. He could nestle it in the palm of one of his hands each time the camera panned across the cell. Now the only question left was, would it work?

_Only one way to find out,_ he told himself silently and started to inch his way to the bars of the holding cell. After the fifth pass, he had finally made it close enough to the cell control panel. His progress was painfully slow. Not only did he have to stop and hide the device on each pass, but he also was starting to feel more of the effects of dehydration. His body was beginning to beg for a taste of the chemically laced water, but he fought off the urge knowing that he needed a clear head to make this work.

Doc focused only on maneuvering his makeshift implement into the keypad lock mechanism. He was only conscious of his hands and the increments of time allowed to him by the passing camera. The cell was old, and as he had hoped, the lock mechanism was more brawn than tech. Another pass of the camera, and Doc jabbed the tool into the lock. A pop of electricity shot out and the brief jolt passed through his hand when he successfully shorted out the system. In seconds, the door swung open.

Quickly, Doc grabbed the latch and pulled the door closed again. As the camera did another slow pan, he made it appear that his door was secure with him inside the cell. He waited for another pass and listened intently for the sound of an alarm that did not come.

"Okay, no secondary security measure," he whispered for his own benefit. "Now, step two." Doc watched the camera sequence several times and inspected the wiring as he was afforded a look every time the camera swung around. If he maneuvered just right, he could redirect the camera to only capture a small segment of his cell. There would be a corner hidden.

On several passes of the camera, Doc would sneak out of his cell and adjust the camera ever so slightly. Finally, he was content that his modifications were finished. "Not the finesse of Tripwire," Doc muttered to himself wishing not for the first time he had his CDU. He could have made a beautiful undetectable time-loop replay with his handheld and programs.

Slowly, he made his way back to the other side of the cell that was partially obscured from the camera. He had to set it up so that even though the majority of his body was out of view of the camera, something of him would remain to keep the guards, whom he had already decided must be of the lowest level Crown intelligence, from raising an alarm or an interest in checking just to be sure.

Mugging for the benefit of the camera as it played on his cell, he picked up the water container and pretended to chug several swallows. It was difficult for him not to actually take a sip, but he knew that time was running short. He would only have a fifteen-minute lead on the slaverlord as it were. During the next pass, he stumbled slightly and slumped to the ground. He rolled to his side, leaving only an elbow in view of the camera.

As soon as the camera moved off of him, Doc stripped his over shirt and arranged it so that it resembled a bent elbow. He slipped out of the door and made it to the blind spot under the camera when a voice stopped him cold.

"You promised you would take me with you, Ranger," Nimrod hissed not moving from his supposed sleeping position.

"I don't have time for this," Doc spat back at him and began to make his way to the next set of locked doors. "Besides, when the guards realize I'm gone, this will be the safest place for all of you."

"If you don't take me with you, I'll raise the guards now," Nimrod threatened slowly rolling to his side. "You know I will." Doc knew it wasn't a bluff. The Leonid had made it clear that he was out for himself now. His debt to the Ryman Clan Council had been paid in full. "Who knows," the feline continued as he watched the ranger weigh his options, "Maybe an alert about a Galaxy Ranger jail break will be enough for my ticket out of here."

Hartford didn't give voice to the vulgar words he thought to describe Nimrod or even their circumstances. Instead, he moved cautiously beneath the camera's blind spot once more. "All right, Nimrod, you'll get your chance. But you have to do exactly as I say."

"But, of course," Nimrod smiled a cat that ate the canary grin.

Doc watched the camera as it panned across the cells. When he had made his adjustments for his own cell, they had carried over into Nimrod's. "You need to move a half meter back and thirty centimeters to your left. Leave your right leg in the shadows and have it cross those points at a ninety-degree angle to the cell's back corner," he directed. "Slow down, do it gradually as if you're groggy or still sleeping. Good, now wait a minute. On the next pass of the camera, settle into position."

Doc gauged Nimrod's position and found it satisfactory. Working his way to Nimrod's cell, he made a path out of the camera's range. In seconds, he shorted out the lock to Nimrod's cell and returned to the only non-monitored spot in the room. "All right, Nimrod, take off your pants."

"My what!" Nimrod sputtered indignantly.

"You need to keep up appearances, and those pants are the only piece of clothing you have that isn't threadbare enough to give view of your sorry hide," Doc answered.

"You did that on purpose, Ranger."

"Hey, as you said, I'm learning. And, next pass, I'm leaving with or without you. You coming?"

Nimrod dropped his pants and arranged them precisely for the camera. Backing into the blind corner, he waited until he could maneuver to the same spot Ranger Hartford occupied.

Doc grabbed the feline's shoulder and whispered harshly. "Stay with me, or we're both dead ducks." Releasing his shoulder, Doc proceeded to the next door. "Never took you for a briefs man," he chortled as he made swift work of the next lock.

**_--------------_**

**_A/N: Special thanks to Lady Niko for agreeing to be my beta and helping to keep those nasty apostrophe's at bay and in the right places.  
_**


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten**

**Psychocrystal Netherworld**

**170-2105**

Zachary Foxx was talked out. The words that he had traded with RGelio were less than satisfying, and he really wasn't in the mood to contemplate what the Rymean had insinuated, a rift in the alliance of the League of Planets, impossible; wasn't it?

He sat inanimately watching the violet-red haze swirl around him; his mind tried to find a mechanism that made some sort of order from the chaotic fog to give him a direction to pursue. He wanted, no needed, action, something to do. To his right, he saw RGelio stiffen suddenly.

"RGelio?" Foxx questioned breaking the silence as he saw the male fade out of existence for a moment before becoming solid again.

"Did you feel that?" RGelio asked dazedly. He had yet to regain color to his fur, which had blanched to an almost white.

"Feel what?" Zachary asked.

"K'Lea, she's haunting me even now. I am cursed," the Rymean muttered as he felt the world shift around him and his senses burn with intimate familiarity.

"Who?" Zachary tried again and then stopped. He had the sudden sense of someone searching for him. "Eliza?" he breathed hopefully as the tenuous connection strengthened. He felt the reassuring impression of safety, comfort. A slight golden form of a woman stood before him. "Eliza," he called again standing quickly trying to make physical contact with the apparition. But, the image vanished before he could reach her.

"No, not Eliza," RGelio clarified looking strangely at the human captain. "S'Kara. You saw her?"

"Yes, I mean no," Zachary answered trying to place the vague awareness of the essence that he had witnessed. "I saw something, someone; I thought it was my wife, but…"

"You did see her," RGelio countered. "S'Kara's ghost was here. But, why would she torment you?"

"It wasn't S'Kara, and it definitely wasn't a ghost" Zachary asserted.

"I know what I saw, what I felt," RGelio argued. "S'Kara and I have been pledged to each other since we reached our teenage years. We are both psychic; we are bonded. I know her spirit better than I know my own. It was she!"

"I won't argue with you, RGelio. We've already been down that path; we know where it leads. Your vision was different from mine although I do believe that it was a psychic communication. I think that Niko is looking for us."

"Ranger Niko?" the Rymean scoffed. "Your human doesn't have the psionic strength to make contact like this."

"She is more adept than you know. You should be happy; we may have a rescue on the way."

"Happy? I choked the life out of my mate. I watched her struggle for air as I telekinetically closed off her windpipe. I watched the life force drain from her as she slid down a wall. Happiness is not a possibility for me."

"I don't think S'Kara is dead," Zachary stated flatly.

RGelio pushed to his feet and began pacing. His body posture oozed pain and self-recrimination. "What you think, Captain, is of no consequence. I know what I am capable of doing. I have lived a life where taking another's is a means of survival. I know the exact force required to shut down bodily functions. I can make it look like someone is having a stroke or a heart attack or whatever. I am that good."

"Congratulations," Zachary replied sarcastically. "I've no doubt you have the power to match your hubris. Is it so hard for you to even allow for the possibility that my team stopped you before the fatal blow? You were struggling with yourself. I know you stepped into that laser blast. I watched you do it even as Niko deflected it from the center of your crystal."

"I know what I did." RGelio's pacing stopped, and he slumped to his knees.

"Yes, you opened the door for the Queen of the Crown to hunt your people, all of your people. You may have even opened the door for her to hunt humans more effectively. You betrayed S'Kara. Don't absolve yourself of that guilt by wallowing in grief for someone who may not be dead."

RGelio's eyes lit with a fire of anger so deeply they seemed to glow. His hands clenched in tight fists as he reigned in the urge to take action against the human. "I will pay for my actions for the rest of my existence."

Zachary unconsciously took a defender's stance as he watched the male in front of him absorb his words. While he wasn't relishing the possibility of another physical altercation, he was pleased to see some color return to the Rymean; the browns were slowly warming the grey pallor to a more healthy hue. "We can spar here for all the time we have left. We're both skilled in diplomacy and can use double-speak with the best of politicians. We both have said pretty much all that needs to be said. Yet, when I give you the possibility that we may be free from this prison, you condemn me for hope?"

"Hope," the word almost burned on his lips as RGelio repeated it. "Hope is a dangerous word, Captain."

"Yes, and it is all we have."

**0945 - Asteroid 437 **

**170-2105**

Doc stumbled slightly as he grabbed the corner of a connecting wall and slowed himself to a stop. Nimrod following close behind slid to a less than graceful halt using the human's back to decelerate.

"Easy, man," Doc panted trying to catch his breath. "I said stick close, not _to_ me."

"If you'd signal once in awhile," the Leonid huffed back, "I could follow a lot better."

"What did you think this meant?" Doc asked as he pantomimed the same few hand signals that he had performed on his way to their present location.

"Table for two in private?" Nimrod replied, his humor dying in the acidity of his tone.

Doc stared at the feline and shook his head in disgust. It was bad enough they had been on the run for over two hours. The alarm had rung out less than fifteen minutes after they had escaped the prison block. They had been hiding in the ductwork for a period of time, regrouping and observing the guards' mannerisms. Now, it was time to take what they had learned and apply it, hopefully, before Nimrod gave them away.

"On three, and try not to get us killed or at the very least thrown in the psychocrypt?" Doc growled as he waited for the two troopers in the adjoining corridor to finish their sweep and return. "One, two, three."

Coming out swinging at the guard in the lead, Doc stepped out from the relative safety of the blind corner. He had surprise on his side and managed to knockout the lead in a fisticuffs maneuver that would have made Gooseman proud. One well-placed kick in the solar plexus, where the adjoining armor had a small kink to allow for upper body movement, doubled over the guard. Two follow-up chops, neck and temple, left the guard lying prone on the ground.

As Doc rounded on his target, Nimrod followed with the second trooper. This guard had seen enough of Doc's attack to move backward and bring the ranger in line with his pulse rifle. He was in the process of pulling the trigger when a bedraggled psychedelic image of a cat-like creature jumped from the shadows. The unexpected sight caused the guard to scream in terror, his shot firing wildly in the air as he tried to get a bead on the strange beast in front of him. He didn't get a second chance.

Nimrod grabbed the rifle. Ripping the firearm from the guard and slinging it down the hall out-of-reach, the Leonid ignored the crack as the firearm broke in pieces on impact with the wall. He was too intent on his prey. One sharp clip and the guard's chin-piece anchoring his helmet to his head fractured causing the apparel to crash to the floor. A widely spread hand raked sharp claws down the side of the guard's face bringing five sickly, green lines oozing in its wake.

Doc watched horrified as Nimrod continued to attack his target. The man had lost consciousness during the assault, yet Nimrod continued to ply fists and claws into the body. The sheer savagery of the attack was in direct contrast with what the Galaxy Ranger knew of the two-bit con.

"You want to add murder to the charges against you?" Doc asked grabbing a bloodied fist in two of his hands to keep the Leonid from continuing his attack.

"Might be worth it," Nimrod hissed losing what was fueling his feral rage and wrenching himself from Hartford's grasp.

Doc studied the male as his breathing slowly returned to a normal cadence. "I wouldn't bet on that. You just got out of one prison. Do you really want to put yourself back into another one?"

Nimrod didn't make a verbal reply, but he did a nudge-kick at the battered trooper. A soft moan rewarded his effort. "He's still breathing."

"Yeah, assault with intent to kill is a much better charge." Doc replied sarcastically starting to move one of the troopers out of direct sight.

"I'm sure that a good lawyer would argue that it was self defense," Nimrod continued mimicking the relocation of his guard to Doc's. "In fact, Ranger, you'd have to testify to that. In case you've forgotten, that guard was going to fire on you. I saved your sorry hide. And, in case it has escaped your very keen observation, that blast mark on the ceiling is not the residue of heavy stun. That is a shoot to kill scorch mark."

Doc glanced at the mark above his head. Rather than belabor a point that was mostly in Nimrod's favor, he changed topics. "Speaking of sorry hides," he began loosening the armor of his guard. "I think it is about time that we cover yours with something a little less revealing."

"Yes, because fur is so much more conspicuous than the white and blues of a Galaxy Ranger uniform."

-----------------

After binding the guards securely and concealing them in what appeared to be a utility closet, Ranger Walter Hartford and Nimrod in Crown uniforms headed out of their alcove. "We need to find a communication console. I don't think that two against the entire Crown forces with the added Rymean slaverlords will be a fair fight. It is obvious that the Queen is more interested in our carcasses than her crypt."

"And, I thought that the Queen valued humans," Nimrod baited.

"She used to until your cousins gave her a taste of the Rymean life-force."

"Cousins, thrice removed and sharing a very limited DNA. Leonids don't make very good psychocrystal fodder."

"You're only proving my point. With her pens full of Rymeans, we are no longer a commodity."

"Ursa's nose, this uniform chafes and smells bad to boot. Don't these Crown dudes ever bathe?"

"Quit your complaining," Doc ordered. "The alternative is much worse than stench and a tight fit. We're lucky that Crown security appears to be downsized. You've been here the longest. Do you know where we even are? This doesn't look like her high and mighty's main base of operations."

"It isn't. I vaguely remember being transferred to a Crown Destroyer and moved here. I think that this is an off-planet base of operations. When we were on Arkansas2 arranging for a starstone supply contract, I heard scuttlebutt about another asteroid base closer to League space. I guess that the Queen prefers a tried and true method."

"You'd think she would tire of being so predictable," Doc agreed and saw another pair of guards heading down the hallway toward them. "Show time."

Lowering their heads slightly, Doc and Nimrod passed by the two other guards with no notice. They were about to round the corner, when one of the troopers they had just passed stopped them. "Hold," the gravelly voice ordered.

Sucking in a breath, Doc carefully turned to the speaker. "Yes sir," he answered back hoping his voice sounded more like an agent of the Queen than that of a human.

"Report."

"Section secure," Doc continued feigning a calm concise report in contrast to his sweating forehead and pounding pulse. "There are no signs of the human or Leonid."

"Their status has been downgraded; the timetable is being stepped up. Report to the galley for a five minute recharge and proceed to sector L15."

"Yes sir," Doc agreed and dutifully acknowledged the trooper with a quick salute. He recognized the stripe badge decorating the speaker as a rank that was deserving of Crown tribute.

"Carry on," the other trooper dismissed them and continued in the direction that he had been heading.

"The galley," Nimord practically danced in delight. "That means food."

"Not so fast," Doc warned as the feline began to outpace him. "We need to get to that communication console first."

Nimrod's body posture slumped in dismay. "Do you have any idea how long it has been since I've eaten?"

"Over four hours ago and you polished off my bowl as well."

"Not that disgusting stuff. I mean real food."

"Communications first, food later," Doc repeated and stopped outside a massive door leading to another passageway.

"If we find the galley first, Ranger, all bets are off." Nimrod's scowl was barely visible through the patched face shield. "I have a hierarchy of needs you know," he continued as he pushed open the door and stepped through the barrier.

Doc followed him without reply. If the gentle circuitry humming in the room were any indication, they would be dispatching a communiqué to BETA within minutes.

Or, not. Nimrod and Doc surveyed the gigantic room rising around them. It resembled a library with large box cases stacked next to and on top of each other; a built in staircase that could traverse the upper shelves was pushed off to the corner. An overall reddish hue radiated through the room making the quiet whirs and hisses of computer diagnostic machines even more eerie.

"Holy shit!" Nimrod yelped as he inadvertently backed into a case and activated the mechanism to retrieve the contents. A reposed Rymean body encased in a red capsule slid from its housing. Lights on the exterior of the case displayed cardiac, respiratory, and brain functioning in green and golden tones. "This isn't the galley."

"Nor is it a communication console. Welcome to the crypt part of the psychocrypt." Doc looked carefully at the comatose figure residing in the life support pod that Nimrod had activated. The computer indicated fairly stable vital signs and almost absent brain function. "Do you recognize him?"

With a mixture of disgust and awe shining in his eyes, Nimrod looked at the body more closely. "No."

"Me either." Doc carefully slid the case back into its hold. He examined the other rows and columns and continued. "By my count, there must be over two hundred active stasis pods. The Queen has been busy."

"But what about those over there," Nimrod asked pointing to a wall empty of all pod cases.

"Waiting for more?" Doc guessed.

"Lovely," Nimrod snorted.

"Indeed," Doc agreed, "we need to get moving. If these…" Hartford stopped when his eyes caught sight of a very familiar head of hair, human hair. Quickly, he activated the apparatus to view the contents. "Zachary," he breathed not quite willing to believe.

"Yes," Nimrod agreed with more empathy than Doc thought the Leonid possessed. "And, next to him, is RGelio. What do we do?"

Doc slammed the pod back into the wall. "There is nothing we can do. Without the other halves of their crystals, we can't bring them back. We have to get word out to BETA. With the number of active pods, the Queen must have an army of slaverlords, most of them powerful psychics to boot."

"Which means?" Nimrod asked following the human's path back through the room.

"Human slaverlords are powerful. The Queen said that it only takes one to make a 'perfect' specimen. Now, she's found the Rymeans. Apparently, one makes a perfect specimen as well. Add to that specimen telekinesis or pyrokinesis, and you now have a slaver with a little extra something."

"We're doomed; aren't we?"

"Let's just say the odds are definitely stacked against us. We need to find that communication room, now. If the Queen gets off base with even a few of these super-powered slavers, there will be no stopping her.

"Our little break out did little to alter the usual operations of this base. There are only a few more guards, and security seems to be only slightly elevated. Heck, the lieutenant said that our status as escaped prisoners was downgraded. About the only thing we have going for us is the Queen's continued arrogance. She has never put much stock in the Galaxy Rangers even if we have thwarted her efforts time and again. Her refusal to grant our escape status may be the one thing that brings her down."

"Let's see, a human and a Leonid, can't see why she doesn't take us seriously," Nimrod glowered. "Especially when she has a few hundred slavers at her disposal. Did you ever consider that this is a trap? Bring BETA's first line here, and leave Earth less than protected?"

"That, my dear Nimrod, is the chance we have to take."

**1115 - Asteroid Field of Remus/Uncharted Territory Line **

**170-2105**

Ranger Gooseman finished the message and dispatched it via beacon to the relay transit satellite orbiting Ryman IV. Their route from the doomed Rymea to the Asteroid Field of Remus had them entering the belt on the Uncharted Territory side. That placed them very far from the nearest communication satellite.

Gooseman quickly calculated the response time in his head. Given their distance from the relay, it would take at the very least an hour or so before the transmission would be intercepted, and then several more minutes before it would be sent on to Commander Walsh. Since the last Series Five transmission had been more than 24 hours ago, protocols would have a tactical response mobilized. However, a lead time of several additional hours would be expected before backup forces could be within striking distance of the Queen's base of operations, wherever that was.

Disengaging the autopilot, Gooseman began navigating the small ship through the asteroids littering the space prior to the main field. While the nav computer would be able to steer through the field, Gooseman felt the need for stealth.

"We're going to have to wake her soon," S'Kara gently reminded him.

"I know," Gooseman replied and glanced at Niko's sleeping form curled up like a cat in one of the forward chairs.

"May I?" S'Kara requested.

Goose hated the idea of rousing her. This was the first time since this mission started, since before this mission started, that Niko had actually slept. But, she was their only link to Zachary, RGelio, and most likely the Queen. Hesitantly, he nodded his consent and then remembering that S'Kara was still blind answered verbally, "Yes."

Throughout Niko's slumber, S'Kara had been sending bioscalar energies through their still viable rapport. At first, she wasn't sure if the ranger had even received the ministrations. Niko's aura, even in rest, had reeled and churned with a myriad of colors, none of which could be characterized as healthy or even stable. As Niko's sleep deepened, her aura had manifested in an unconscious transference of chaotic thoughts and what could best be characterized as nightmares.

During that tumultuous seepage of unshielded psychic energy, S'Kara had redoubled her efforts. Since the shields that the psychic ranger usually held so tightly were weakened, S'Kara had a much easier time transversing the bond into the ranger's mind. She had met some resistance but soothed the barriers with green healing energies and had promised to go no deeper. After a few moments, Niko's whole psychic demeanor had changed and settled into a rest of regeneration absent of dream or thought.

Using the same technique of color to communicate with Niko, S'Kara sent waves of indigo, lavender, and light blue through their shared bond and then brightened and intensified the hues to magenta, quartz, and silver. Niko stirred from her position and pulled herself upright. Yawning, she stretched one arm over her head to alleviate the strain on her spine that her unusual sleeping position had instilled. During the stretch, full consciousness hit her, and she remembered where she was as well as why her other hand was bound from moving. Her arm dropped to her side, and she glanced at S'Kara.

"How long have I been out?" she asked her mouth feeling as if she were talking through cotton.

She reached for her water ration and swallowed as S'Kara answered, "About six hours."

"What!" Niko growled and swung accusing eyes in Gooseman's direction. "I thought we agreed to a couple of hours each."

S'Kara felt the tension in the small cockpit rise and refrained from commenting that she had taken her two hour increment.

"You and S'Kara agreed," Gooseman shrugged his shoulders in dismissal. "We're in the outskirts of the asteroid field. Where to?"

Niko knew better than to belabor a point for which Shane held no remorse especially a point in which he were correct in making. Momentarily scrubbing her good hand across her face, she reached into the makeshift sling and withdrew a folded sheath of fabric. Opening the protective layer of cloth, she selected Zachary's gem and held it gently. Closing her eyes, she searched for the psychic reverberations that were her captain.

"There," she pointed at the view screen. "Head into the center of the field."

Gooseman altered their heading and followed Niko's directions. He was careful to keep their small ship concealed by using some of the smaller asteroids as a cloak as they made their way deeper into the field of spiraling boulders.

"That one," Niko said a little breathlessly, "Zachary's life force is concealed in the interior."

Goose zeroed in on the asteroid in question. It was much larger than the few traveling with it. It was also covered in impact craters. He was sure that if they could get close enough they would find that one or more of those craters were ship-docking bays. "Remind you of anything?"

Niko nodded. "Just like the last time."

"Seem a little too coincidental to you?"

"Well, the Queen isn't known for her originality," Niko countered, "and, it's not like we have other options."

"True. But without Doc to talk us through security..."

S'Kara cleared her throat to remind the two rangers of her presence. "I'm not your Doctor, but I do have an idea."

Niko and Gooseman traded sheepish glances at their inadvertent exclusion of S'Kara. "It's just Doc, Ranger Hartford. He's our resident computer guru," Goose explained briefly. "Let's hear your idea."

"We are going into a Queen facility, correct."

Goose nodded, and Niko answered, "Yes."

"And we don't have the means to infiltrate the facility in this small vessel. There are no cloaking fields, no communication jamming devices, and practically no fire power."

"Correct," Gooseman replied. "This appears to be a jump ship, meant for personal travel and sometimes used for shuttling personnel between larger ships and planets. Traveling the distance from the dwarf star to our current location and adding to that our full capacity has stretched the ship to its limits. We don't have much of a choice as far as parking goes. Our energy supply will be depleted long before we turn around and head to Ryman IV or even BETA jurisdiction."

"Then let's go through the front door," S'Kara suggested.

"You want me to ram the asteroid?" the incredulity of Gooseman's voice echoed slightly in the small cabin.

"No, of course not, that would be suicide. We want to get in and rescue our people not become some weird parody of martyrs. I mean, contact the main control room and let them know we're coming."

"You want to elaborate on that?"

"Ranger Niko, how are you feeling? I get the sense that you are in better control of your psionics."

Niko looked at Gooseman who turned a degree more frustrated and probably angrier at S'Kara's deference to her before she answered, "Um, yes. I believe I am."

"Do you feel up to a ruse?"

"Go on," Niko encouraged still not following the Rymean.

"Obviously, the Queen is hunting Rymeans. We know that she successfully turned RGelio into a slaverlord. I want you to create the illusion that I am a slaverlord…"

"Are you out of your mind, lady!" Shane interrupted harshly. Both S'Kara and Niko turned to stare at him. A long minute of silence followed. Raking a hand through his sandy hair, a gesture he was beginning to associate with the fairer sex, he continued in a more reasonable tone. "Niko is a psychic not an illusionist."

Another long pause filled the cabin. This time, Gooseman recognized it as the silence of telepathic conversation. There were no gestures to go along with the communication. Only Niko's eyes belied the feelings associated with her voiceless words. "Since we're not all on the same page here," Goose hissed through clenched teeth, "how about we speak out loud." He wasn't sure if his anger were directed at S'Kara or Niko or if the feeling was only anger or a blend of several negative emotions over the clandestine conversation.

"Do you have a plan?" Niko asked him.

"We'll do what Doc did on a limited scale, no visual."

"And if that doesn't work, will you concede to S'Kara's suggestion?"

"Are you capable of projecting that kind of illusion?" Goose asked her pointedly.

"I'm not sure," Niko admitted. "If the guards on the other end are androids, we're screwed. I can only project the illusion in a sentient being's head; there are no thoughts to manipulate in a computer's brain – unless you happen to be Doc," she added with a sad smile.

"We have to land." S'Kara reminded them.

"Opening hailing frequencies now. S'Kara, you're on."

Mustering a confidence she didn't feel, S'Kara spoke loudly. "This is Rymean vessel, T'Ward Three, requesting dock for transfer of specimens."

"Asteroid 437. What is your clearance, T'Ward Three?"

Niko glanced at Gooseman and made a quick cutting motion across her throat. Goose disengaged the intercom for a moment. "They're sentient and looking for a visual. Let me try. Otherwise, our bluff is dead in the water."

Giving Niko a chance to compose herself and moving so that neither one of them could be seen on the vidscreen, Goose re-engaged full-communications. An image of a Crown Elite Trooper filled the screen in front of S'Kara.

As S'Kara continued to speak, Gooseman could hear the shrillness of her voice rise making her sound very much like the Queen. "You fools! I have two major specimens in the hold of this ship. Dock us, now!"

"Y-Your highness," the trooper stuttered. "Docking Bay 17 is clear for landing."

"Are you a complete imbecile? This slaver is blind. Guide us in and have a team meet me at the platform."

"Of course, Your Majesty. Tractor docking beam locked onto T'ward Three. Troopers dispatched to dock location, 17. Do you have any further requests?"

Gooseman cut the communications and looked from Niko to S'Kara. "Did you just send us a welcoming committee?"

"Sorry," S'Kara replied, "I had no choice. A blind Rymean slaverlord was suspicious enough. I figured, if we had a small security detail sent to the bay, we'd alleviate distrust and have a smaller contingency with which to deal."

"We need to exchange our weapons anyway," Niko sent a tentative smile to Gooseman.

Shane saw the strain lines once again pronounced clearly on Niko's face. "Can you continue the ruse when we land?"

"I will only be able to generate the manifestation for a short time. The same requirements apply, sentient beings only. If they are androids, we'll have to go directly into good old-fashioned firepower."

Gooseman fingered the triggers of the two, holstered weapons at his hips. "And, our chances of getting caught will escalate with it," Goose supplied and moved to the ship's access portal just as the vessel settled on the platform.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter Eleven**

**1207 – Docking Bay 17, Asteroid 437**

**170-2105**

Silently counting to ten after the ship docked, Gooseman glanced at his companions and triggered the sequence to disengage the door latch. After careful consideration for the subterfuge they expected to continue, they had strategically arranged their positions for disembarking. S'Kara stood in the foreground offering some shelter to her supposedly subdued specimens. Niko was almost hidden behind her. In an attempt to further shield Niko, a highly armed Gooseman brought up the rear carefully situated to be the most visible.

As the hatch opened, the occupant elevator began to descend bringing the crew into the open. As they began to clear the aperture and the entire docking bay began to come into view, Gooseman felt Niko stiffen beside him. He watched as the psychic closed her eyes in concentration. Her breathing became shallower, and her knuckles whitened with effort. It was obvious that she was already straining her psionics in order to continue deceiving the two, approaching guards brandishing their pulse rifles.

Without a second thought, Goose took one of Niko's clenched fists into one of his hands. As he coaxed her grip to relax, it dawned on him that this was the first time they had physically touched each other since the inadvertent mind meld on the Rymea. For a moment, Goose's guard rose in anticipation of another violent merge, but his caution was unwarranted. Both the super trooper and the psychic retained their separate selves. His wariness flashed to an unexpected and empty sense of disappointment that faded immediately when he saw the look of relief cross Niko's blue-green eyes. Squeezing her hand once, Gooseman released it and replaced Niko's soft skin with the hard steel of a laser pistol.

Niko turned her thoughts inward and broadcasted her illusion into the minds of all the sentient beings occupying the docking bay floor. Because a sustained, concentrated thought pulse directed only at the guards would be too draining to her already taxed psionics, Niko had decided to cast a broader net. She had forewarned both Gooseman and S'Kara of her intentions, but the soft gasp that escaped S'Kara's lips and the unsettling sense of Gooseman's disorientation, although well-concealed, indicated that her admonition had done little to prepare her companions.

Even though Shane knew that his sight was colored by Niko's projection, the white flowing robes of the slaverlord in front of him begged for him to take action against the enemy. To control his inbred reflex, Goose clenched his grip tighter around his weapons. The pseudo sensation of Rymean claws scraping against the pads of his palms made the distinction of reality from fiction even more surreal. He had had no idea how good, how persuasive, Niko could be.

S'Kara steeled herself as her mind actually felt thick robes clinging to her every movement. She had believed that her lack of sight would give her some distance from Niko's charade. In truth, her lack of sight actually aided in the overall sense of the illusion. Since she was psychic as well, she was able to feel the entire spectrum of the projection. The fact that Niko was so adept and able to concentrate her psionics on so many levels beyond that of sight both frightened and amazed the Rymean. This human, who by her own admission was completely out of control, was operating on an entirely different level of psionics, one of which S'Kara had not even thought possible.

Knowing that the strain of continuing the ruse would have mental and physical ramifications for the female ranger and that her own foreboding thoughts would be of no help, S'Kara flashed a sense of encouragement highlighted with silver to Niko and took a step forward still remaining on the platform that had finally come to a rest on the floor of the docking bay. She coolly regarded the two guards. For the illusion to be complete, she would have to act her part.

A strange sense of familiarity crept into S'Kara's prescient awareness. The auras of the approaching guards did not resonate with their roles. A flash of recognition, not S'Kara's, ran through the Rymean's mind, and she felt as well as "saw" the illusion disintegrate. Without preamble, Niko dropped the chimera of Rymean prisoners and slaverlord and ran off the platform throwing her arms around one of the guards.

As a perplexed Gooseman watched, Niko hugged one of the Crown guards, and S'Kara launched herself off the pad to joyfully hug the other one. Approaching the group with more than a little caution, Gooseman, still holding his weapons fire-ready, noticed that the artifice had dissipated and that he had reverted to his human form.

"Doc," he greeted seeing the familiar, dark face of the ranger peeking through the limited space of the visor helmet. "And," Gooseman turned to look at the other disguised figure. "Nimrod?" he guessed quirking an eyebrow at the unlikely ally.

"My Gooseman," Doc chirped happily reaching around Niko who was still embracing him to shake his comrade's hand. "Not as warm of a welcome as Niko here, but I'll take it." Niko, for her part, stepped back to a less suffocating and more companionable distance.

"Cousin," S'Kara smiled and leaned back to regard Nimrod.

Goose arched his eyebrow even further when he heard the word "cousin" and watched the reunion of the two feliniods with interest.

"Little one," Nimrod replied, squeezing S'Kara once more before releasing her. "Your eyes!" he exclaimed in alarm as he saw that her normally brilliant, amber eyes were grey and unfocused.

"There was an attack on-board the K'Lathia. I was injured," S'Kara dismissed his concern. She had become so used to seeing via aural and other senses that she was beginning to forget she couldn't "see" in the typical sense. "And, I don't need eyes to notice that you look like grawl."

"You try staying in the Queen's accommodations for a few weeks and see how good you look," Nimrod retorted.

"Thanks, but we'll pass," Gooseman broke in and looked back at Doc. "You want to tell us what's going on?"

"Sure, but not here," Hartford agreed and started to usher the group out of the main bay and back toward the ship on which the trio had arrived. "While the Queen's security isn't top notch right now, we shouldn't go inviting trouble. Any chance we can get back on that spacecraft and get our still intact hides out of here?"

"Negative," Gooseman replied, redirecting the group to a relatively secure alcove housing the automated docking systems. "We're out of energy, and there isn't any firepower onboard that could keep us in one piece anyway."

"I guess, we'd better find that communication console then," Doc growled, not relishing going back into the heart of the Queen's base even with their improved numbers.

"Well, we do have a jump on that," Gooseman continued surveying the area for more troop activity before nodding to Doc to take point. "Before Niko led us here, I relayed a message to BETA. They know where we are relatively speaking. If we can locate a comm satellite and give them complete coordinates, we'll have reinforcements here within a reasonable time frame."

"Assuming that your relay makes it to BETA," Doc agreed and held a hand up to stop the group while he activated the motion sensor controlled door. Showing an all-clear sign, he led the group into the corridor. "There is a lot going on here, that you don't know about," Doc continued and turned down another hallway that he and Nimrod had already traversed.

"Yes," S'Kara agreed nodding at Nimrod and the newcomer ranger. "We need to find a safe place to debrief since I would hazard a guess that there are several things of which you and Nim have no knowledge as well."

"Nim?" Hartford snickered quietly at the endearing shortened form. "I like that. Makes me think of that old Earth story about the Rats of NIMH. It is even funnier since you are decidedly not murine."

"What about the psychocrypt?" Nimrod suggested, glaring at Ranger Hartford in a way that made the ranger shiver.

"Do you know where it is?" Niko asked bringing the conversation back to a pertinent area before it took another wayward departure.

"Mrs. Frisby and I stumbled upon the crypt while looking for a way out of here," Doc replied. While he had made a mental note to never use the shortened form of the Leonid's name directly to his face, Hartford still was not quite willing to give up his allusion.

"Mrs. Frisby?" Gooseman looked confused as he examined the group for another undetected member.

"Don't ask," Niko said, shaking her head at Shane's literary confusion. "It's another reference to the story, Mrs. Frisby and the Rats of NIMH, that Doc brought up earlier," she explained, drawing Goose away from a tangent that she wanted to obliterate. "We're done with that now, right?"

"I'm not sure we will be when we get to the true secrets of Nim," Doc muttered under his breath, knowing that the super trooper would catch the almost inaudible utterance. "Yes," he answered loudly enough for Niko to be appeased.

Ignoring the look exchanged between Gooseman and Doc, Niko pulled the fabric concealing the psychocrystal fragments from her sling. "Maybe, we can do some more damage with these," she suggested showing the red gems to Doc and Nimrod.

"Whose are they?" Doc asked, hoping he already knew the answer.

"RGelio's and the captain's."

"Well, as luck would have it, we encountered the other halves of those crystals attached to their bodies back in the crypt," Doc reported and glanced down the T intersection of another long corridor. A double set of guards was headed in their direction. "Got a foursome directly in front and moving fast."

Gooseman, Doc, and a somewhat reluctant, Nimrod made a defensive line in front of Niko and S'Kara. They drew their weapons in preparation for an altercation of the laser variety.

"Wait," Niko hissed sharply. "If we start a firefight here, we'll alert the rest of the guards and who knows who else."

"We're out of options," Gooseman growled back already picking up the sound of four pairs of feet rapidly approaching.

"No, we're not," Niko argued back and pushed her way in front of the men. "We go back to plan A. S'Kara, get up here in front, Goose, behind and next to me. Doc, Nimrod, flank us," Niko ordered. She didn't even make sure that the others had complied with her directions before she recreated their deception.

The atmosphere in the narrow hallway seemed to crackle with psychokinetic energy as the images of the group shifted into Rymean, Crown guardsmen, and slaverlord. In moments, the heavily armed Crown troopers turned the corner and ran right into the Queen of the Crown.

"Y-your Majesty," the guardsman in the lead stammered as he and his unit stopped in surprise and fell inelegantly to their knees to show their respect.

"Indeed," S'Kara sniffed, feeling the cruel smile adorning her face as alien as the garish purple hands at the ends of her robe. "Move out of the way," she ordered imperiously, not recognizing the sound of her voice as it boomed loudly from her lips.

"But, of course," the lead responded, quickly gathering his group to their feet. "We will escort you."

S'Kara turned her head as she was passing the guard and sneered directly into his face. "You are too late. This team will be honored as my escort. Go; see to my ship. I want it refueled and prepared for the next hunt."

The guardsman lowered his head in shame. "As you command," he acquiesced and continued down the main line of the T intersection to the docking bay to do the Queen's bidding.

It wasn't until the group had turned the corner and gone several meters in the other direction that Niko dropped the charade. Her eyes still cast in a shade of lavender, the psychic looked at Gooseman. Her knees buckled from under her, and she began to topple sideways.

Deftly, Gooseman holstered his pistols and caught Niko before she struck the ground. "You're not doing that again," Shane graveled, his voice a mixture of anger and worry.

Niko blinked at him slowly. "I'll do whatever it takes to keep us safe and get us out of here," she whispered back.

"Okay, _that_ was new," Doc muttered, breaking the tension. "And, a little too real for my tastes. I'm with Goose; no more Queen impersonating."

Keeping a supporting arm across her back, Gooseman helped a shaky Niko back to her feet. "We need to get some cover and rescue RGelio and Zachary," he reminded the group. "Let's go before we encounter more guards."

Wisely staying out of the rangers' interaction, Nimrod took Doc's position at point and with no more interruptions led them to the large doorway of the psychocrypt. Pushing open one of the heavy doors, he went over to the pods holding Captain Foxx and RGelio and activated them.

S'Kara saw the dim reflection of RGelio's life force and ran to the pod. She pushed open the container and gently reached in to touch him. As her hands traced the well-known contours of his face and brushed his mane, she realized that she suddenly had no idea what to do. So much had happened, had changed for them. Her confusion, love blended with anger and betrayal, radiated through her rapport with Niko.

Stepping away from Shane's support, Niko withdrew RGelio's and Zachary's crystal fragments. She handed one to S'Kara and kept the other one for herself. "You have to join the halves of the crystals together to free them," she explained softly. "Connect your half to the one encircling his neck. Once the connection is made, the life force essence contained in the crystals will return to the host's body."

As one, S'Kara and Niko connected their respective halves of the crystals to the other crystal fragments resting on top of their companions' hearts.

-----------------

Zachary and RGelio had shifted back to their pattern of waiting in silence. Each absorbed in his thoughts about a possible rescue and what that might mean.

Zachary kept focusing on his, all to brief, reunion with Eliza. The strength she must have to stay sane in this realm, completely disconnected from reality, catching brief glimpses of life when the Queen allowed, made him ache for her even more. His vow to get her back had never been idle, but now knowing what she suffered, how she suffered, on a daily basis renewed his promise.

Eliza wasn't sleeping in the cryocrypt as they had all allowed themselves to believe. She was being tortured daily, slowly having her humanity, her essence, ripped away on the whim of another. Zachary's throat burned with bitterness as he realized that given half a chance, he would kill the Queen outright. That would be his justice.

RGelio knew that a rescue would not save him. When S'Kara had fired the pistol back on the Rymea, he had taken the direct impact of the blast even with the human psychic's intervention. His existence was this, and he deserved it.

He had wrought atrocities of his own in the name of freedom and equality for his people. He had taken the easy road, the Queen's design, as the path to achieving all the Clan Council was meant to become. He had become greedy. He may have said it was justice, but it had been retribution, revenge and the desire to move into the upper echelon that he and S'Kara had been deprived of since birth, that had motivated his actions, his decisions.

RGelio had no hope of escaping the prison he had created for himself. Nor, did he truly wish to leave. The things he had done would haunt him appropriately for the rest of his numbered days. That was as it should be. He only wished that he could have one brief moment with S'Kara. Tell her the things he had learned, _all_ the things he had learned, about himself. He didn't care that the knowledge showed him in a less than glorious light. That didn't matter anymore. He wanted her to see him, all of him, faults included. But most of all, he wanted her to see how his love for her had changed him to be a better Rymean even if it had taken psychocrystallization for him to finally become that being. Even if by some miracle of K'Lea's hand he were allowed to return to his physical body, he would not have the opportunity to reconcile with S'Kara. He had doomed her to the celestial fields of the afterlife while trying to prove he was worthy of her.

In a strange choreography, Zachary and RGelio both grabbed their chests as the air was forced from their astrally projected bodies. Neither could function. Their eyes met. No words but emotions traveled freely almost as if they were telepathically speaking to one another.

Zachary's eyes widened as he found the truth of the Rymean's condition. RGelio's eyes softened as he agreed with the captain's mission. If they could have, they would have embraced as friends, so vastly different in their make-up and drives yet so similar in their love for their mates. Their images of each other flickered and then seemed to hold for a moment in limbo before dissolving completely.

-----------------

"Nothing happened," Nimrod observed from his position as guard at the entry doors. He had taken the position for two reasons. The first, everyone accepted; Nimrod was not as invested as the other members in the outcome of the resurrection of Captain Foxx and RGelio and could focus on events occurring outside of the room. The second was based on self-preservation. Once RGelio and Zachary Foxx were revived, attention would most likely turn to him and his role in the events leading up to their current situation. Nimrod was preparing for the eventuality of a quick escape.

A growl from Gooseman was the only response directed at Nimrod as the super trooper and Doc moved closer to see if they could assist Niko and S'Kara.

"Why didn't it work?" S'Kara gave voice to the question everyone was thinking.

"I-I don't know," Niko admitted unsteadily, still recovering from her earlier efforts of concealing them from the guards. "This is exactly what we did last time, and the captain immediately woke from the crypt."

Removing his helmet to get a better view, Doc peered carefully at the lifeless bodies of RGelio and Captain Foxx. "Don't these crystals look different? They seem, I don't know, smaller?"

"Yes," Gooseman concurred, examining the crystalline pieces closer. "It almost looks as if we need another component to make them whole."

"A third crystal? But, that's impossible," Niko protested.

"Actually," Nimrod supplied, moving from his position as doorman back into the group to also take a closer look, "It is possible. Ever since the Queen stumbled upon you humans, she has been striving to make the 'perfect' slaverlord. Yes, you all make excellent specimens. You are strong, and a single one of you provides enough energy for her to manifest her powers deep within her territories as well as to those she wishes to claim for her empire.

"There has been much talk about a new psychocrystal chamber. The slaver masters may have developed a way of fracturing the crystals into three parts instead of the usual two."

"How did you get to know so much about this?" Gooseman asked, dangerously moving nose to nose with the Leonid.

Nimrod gulped quickly and backpedaled his way into a wall in an attempt to get space between him and the super trooper. "I heard about it on Tortuna," his voice squeaked an octave higher than usual, making his statement sound more fictional than factual.

"Is that so?" Gooseman countered, returning to his suffocating stance.

"Yes," Nimrod answered as he flattened himself against the bulkhead still trying to create space between them.

"Doc," Gooseman called to the computer genius, "I think now would be a good time to fill us in on the things we don't know. How about you start with the secrets of Nim, here?"

Ranger Hartford shot a pitying glance at the trapped Leonid. "Before I say anything, you should know I granted Nimrod immunity."

"You did what?" Niko and Gooseman incredulously exclaimed simultaneously.

"He has fully cooperated with the terms of our agreement. He knows that BETA will have to be the true guarantor of the arrangement, but for his part, Nimrod has been very helpful."

"I'll take that under consideration," Gooseman said, a feral smile of agreement fixed upon his face.

"Nimrod has been the one behind our portable recharging unit issues," Doc revealed, wincing as he saw Gooseman gather the collar of Nimrod's uniform into one fist and pull the Leonid off of his feet. "Remember the agreement, Gooseman," Doc advised as Goose, keeping his hold around Nimrod's shirt, lowered the Leonid so that his toes brushed the floor.

"Acting on the behalf of the Clan Council of Ryman IV and their agreement with the Queen of the Crown, Nimrod infiltrated BETA to sabotage the portable recharge unit," Doc paused as the super trooper let his grip slip and slammed Nimrod bodily into the wall.

"He apparently added some kind of sorcery enhanced nanotechnology to unit as well. It was supposed to render our badges inoperable."

"It didn't do that, Doc," Shane hissed as he plowed Nimrod into the wall once more.

"So, it seems," Doc agreed, wondering if he should step in between the super trooper and the Leonid but not really wanting to do so. "I think that somehow the nanotechnology changed our implants, made them absorb more power than they were intended to store. That is why we kept having those odd bleeds of our implant-augmented abilities.

"You remember when you took a super charge from the platform before you infiltrated Deltoid Rock?" Doc asked. "I think, that this is the same premise. Only we didn't know we were getting a super charge. Also, I think that the frequency of use of the recharging unit directly affected the implants, either causing a need for more power to activate an ability or creating false depletion readings leading us to recharge more frequently than needed. It created a viscous cycle."

"Give me one good reason not to take you out right now, Nimrod," Gooseman threatened as Doc's theory caused scenes of Niko's out of control powers to replay through his mind.

"I didn't know," Nimrod squeaked in defense.

"Not good enough," Shane growled and slammed Nimrod against the wall much harder than the previous times. The fierce jolt knocked the helmet off of the Crown uniform completely.

"Let me be the reason," S'Kara intervened, placing her hand on the arm Gooseman was using to anchor the felinoid to the bulkhead. "Nim has been working with the Council as a debt to me. He was only following orders. Yes, it was ill conceived and wrong. But, he was given little choice."

In disgust, Goose released his hold on Nimrod. Still gulping for air, the Leonid slid to the ground in a heap. "You're telling me the Queen has been involved since Arkansas2?"

"Before that," Doc supplied. "She's been meddling with us since the Nebraskan Ambassador's daughter ran away to go club hopping. Right before that supposed kidnapping, Nimrod dosed the recharge unit. We've never even used the device without the Queen's nanotechnology."

"But the Queen could not have been responsible for what happened to Arkansas2," Niko argued. "That was a natural phenomenon."

"True," Doc agreed. "But, she was apparently working with the sheriff and mayor to get a nifty supply of manufactured starstones to power the drive engines of her armada."

"As soon as I discovered the true plan of the Queen, I was going to go to BETA and tell you," Nimrod confessed, finally getting to his feet with a little assistance from S'Kara. "But, she decided I was too much of risk that I would show her hand not only to BETA but also to the Rymeans. I've been her prisoner for weeks."

Without warning, Niko punched Nimrod in the jaw with a dangerous right hook that deposited him back on the floor. Barely satisfied with the blood spilling from his split lip, Niko leaned down and snarled, "You're lucky I'm a Galaxy Ranger."

Turning to S'Kara, Niko apologized, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry that such a creature is related to you. He deserves worse, and you certainly deserve better." Suddenly needing distance from the clairvoyant and criminal, Niko walked away to stand over the stasis pods of Captain Foxx and RGelio.

S'Kara's sightless eyes followed the human psychic. She could sense the range of colors demonstrating the turmoil of the suppressed emotions scattered through Niko's aura. S'Kara held no grudge against the human for the actions she had taken against Nimrod. Niko was correct; her cousin deserved much worse than he received from the Galaxy Ranger. He did not, however, deserve the treachery of the Queen. Taking a strip of cloth from a belt around her waist, S'Kara wiped the blood from Nimrod's face. "You know that you will go to their prison for your role in this?" she whispered softly.

Nimrod nodded and took the cloth away from S'Kara's hand to apply pressure to the cut to stem the flow of blood still streaming down his chin. "I know," he said simply and turned to pick up his helmet from the floor.

"Are you okay?" Gooseman asked, walking up to where Niko stood.

"We need to find those other crystals," Niko replied, completely ignoring his question. "They are the only way to revive them."

"Where do we start?" Doc asked, immediately regretting the question as it formed on his lips.

His answer came from the wall of empty stasis pods that slid open to reveal an interior room equipped with a psychocrystallization chamber, numerous guards, two slaverlords and the Queen of the Crown.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter Twelve**

**1305 – Inner Sanctum and Psychocrystallization Room, Asteroid 437**

**170-2105**

"Well, well, well, look what the Leonid dragged in," the Queen of the Crown chortled malevolently. "I did so wonder when you would complete our arrangements."

Four pair of eyes turned and stared at Nimrod as he lowered his head. He had put the Queen's plan in motion, but he certainly wasn't privy to her master design. "I completed my part of your plan a long time ago. It was you who changed the agenda."

"Did I?" the Queen's voice mocked him. "You planned on double crossing me. You were going to get rich and fat and turn around and warn the humans and the Rymeans of my divine intentions. You were treated much better than most traitors."

"Only because I'm not suited to your crypt," Nimrod reminded her.

"So very puzzling," the Queen responded, raising a sharp, red fingernail to stroke her cheek dramatically. "You share so many commonalities with your brethren, yet you are immune to the effects of psychocrystallization. Well, your service certainly made up for your shortcomings. But, now that your assistance has come to an end, I do believe that it is time to bid you, farewell." The whine of laser weapons powering up filled the room with their deadly sound.

"Not on our watch," Gooseman threatened, pushing the Leonid behind him as the rest of the Galaxy Rangers stepped forward.

"Oh, yes, do put up a fight. After all, that is all you genetically engineered creatures are good for. I tried to make a slaver from your DNA butchered comrades once. The creature melted into a pool of plasma. You may appear to be human, but you are decidedly not.

"Then again, I suppose those enhanced biodefenses do come in handy whenever you need some physical satisfaction," she purred maliciously, the innuendo clear.

S'Kara watched the aura of the Queen flit through layers of blackness. She had never witnessed such evil contained in one individual. An occasional streak of color like deep purple or dark yellow would emerge, but the colors always read the same: rage, treachery, deceit, and then the blackness of evil would always return as the dominant descriptor. Even though deceit played a large part of the Queen's objectives, her intentions were obvious. She had no plans to use the psychocrypt. She was going to kill them all.

Hoping to sway the Queen into a rash move, S'Kara pushed her way to the front of the group. "You will waste all of this potential; throw it away?"

"Dear, little, S'Kara," the Queen greeted, a snide look crossing her face. "It seems that you did not die after all. Poor RGelio, he has been so despondent since he killed you. Perhaps, now he will rise to the occasion." Flicking her wrist, one of the slaverlords flanking her moved forward and threw a telekinetic pulse pitching S'Kara off her feet and slamming her against the outside of the psychocrystallization chamber.

"Easy, you fool," the Queen hissed angrily, "I'm not done with that yet."

Dazed, S'Kara looked back into the crystal adorning the slaverlord. That was the crystal they needed to bring RGelio back to them. Another thought rang through her head just as suddenly; perhaps they didn't need the crystals as much as they thought. Closing her eyes, S'Kara threw her realization to Niko in the form of an open, telepathic shout.

Niko bristled as she heard her name practically screamed in her head. Fighting the urge to grab her temples in defensive reflex, Niko opened her mind. After modulating the volume of the rapport, she was able to listen to what S'Kara had noticed.

Gooseman caught sight of Niko's mannerisms and recognized them as telepathic communication. In an effort to distract the Queen from the clandestine tête-à-tête, Shane stepped forward. "Perhaps, you used the wrong super trooper to create your failed attempt at a super slaver?"

The Queen of the Crown stepped forward and regarded the brazen super trooper like an insect she would smash with her shoe. "You are a pretty specimen," she granted. "But, you only prove my point with your ridiculous words. While brawn is definitely your forte and eye candy an attractive incentive, a truly great slaver possesses intellect and emotional content."

"Perhaps you simply lack the ability to use the genetically superior traits of a super trooper to your advantage," Gooseman baited back.

"Stop trifling with me, boy," the Queen snapped turning her attention to Niko and S'Kara. "Did you really think I wouldn't figure you out? Your attempts to dissuade me are pathetic. You might think that I never change, never adapt, but that notion is not only highly ignorant, it is also lethal.

"Ladies, join us." The command was encouraged with additional guards raising their rifles.

S'Kara pulled herself up from her position by the psychocrystal chamber and limped to the rest of the group. As she reached Doc, the ranger slipped an arm around her waist to help her stand on an obviously injured ankle. Niko moved a step forward as well. The rangers and S'Kara formed a line; still alienated by his part in the Queen's scheme, Nimrod stood offset and behind them.

"I've wasted enough time watching you scurry around like Kiwis at a Mothmoose celebration. Your attempts to radio BETA, escape me, and rescue your captain have been little diversions that have granted me even less enjoyment. I had so hoped that the Series Five would live up to its predecessors. I will admit that I was surprised by the outcome of the portable recharging unit. By all rights, you shouldn't be standing here. But, that has been the only glitch. I'm disappointed, and I've truly grown tired of you. Guards!" the Queen swept her arm and pointed at the five that stood before and against her. "Dispatch them!"

A multitude of clicks were heard but no laser escaped the muzzle of the weapons. "I said, fire!" the Queen repeated, her voice screeching with rage at her order not being followed. Again, clicks registered without energy blasts.

"Impossible!" the Queen shrieked again and stared at the psychic human. "You can't possibly do this!"

Niko's eyes burned with a violet light as she concentrated on removing the weapon fire from the equation. Her counterparts needed no more prompting and immediately began to engage the foot troops in close hand-to-hand combat.

As soon as the weapons refused to discharge, Gooseman charged the trooper closest to him. The guard panicked as he saw the super trooper bearing down on him and continued to try and fire his useless weapon. Goose took no pity on the confused sentry and simply wrenched the laser pistol out of his hands. Undeterred the Crown minion, threw a punch at Gooseman's jaw, but Shane had anticipated the maneuver and ducked under the fist with ease. The momentum of his missed punch caused the guard to land directly in the path of the super trooper's counterattack. With an efficiency of movement, Gooseman rolled the unconscious guard down his back and continued on to the next foot soldier.

Ranger Hartford neatly picked up S'Kara and deposited the Rymean a safe distance near a wall of terminals by the psychocrystallization chamber. "Stay down," he commanded as he watched the melee of fists, feet, and crunching bodies.

Although he was anxious to get back into the fray, he knew that this might be the only opportunity he would have to attempt to contact BETA for reinforcements. The computer station he had chosen looked like it might have the ability to broadcast a distress call. Pulling the housing away from the terminal, he exposed a clump of wires and began reworking them. Within moments, Doc was ready to transmit a message. "S'Kara, I know you can't see, but did Niko or Goose give you the coordinates of the asteroid?"

"Yes," S'Kara answered. She quickly rattled the numeric location off to the ranger, listening to the keyboard strokes that the ranger typed. "Ranger Hartford," S'Kara interrupted as Doc finished the last entry, "I think that you're needed."

Doc looked over the terminal at the scene of chaos. Nimrod was throwing a guardsman over his shoulder, and Gooseman grabbed the same guard and spun him into a wall. The super trooper and the Leonid matched back to back to face the next threat. While the two males had done well in dwindling their enemy's numbers, they were starting to show some fatigue. In addition, their separate and combined forays had taken them a great distance from Niko. While Doc knew the Xanaduan could handle her own in a fight, he also knew how vulnerable she was when engaged in using her psychic abilities. He was just launching himself toward the guard approaching her from behind when a voice boomed out over the din stopping him cold.

"Enough," roared the Queen, causing all in the room to pause. "Your little psychic's tricks are over." She indicated Niko who stood trembling in the room a knife pressed against her throat from the guard who had gotten to her before Doc. "Stand down!"

Gooseman's fist practically shook with the effort it took for him to release the guard that he was in the process of pummeling. As the body slid down the wall, Goose's rage flared in his eyes as he looked at Niko, her life being used as a condition of surrender. In ordinary circumstances, the psychic would have simply taken the guard out of the equation. She was a skilled fighter. But, these were no ordinary circumstances, and Gooseman and the others had taken her psionics for granted. He had known better; what the hell had he been thinking?

Niko's eyes dimmed to a strange hue of lavender streaked with blue and green as she looked at the super trooper. His self-recrimination was palpable. She couldn't help but send to him, _It's not your fault, Shane._

Gooseman closed his eyes as he felt the familiar mind touch from Niko. As always, her essence reminded him of summer nights on moonlit beaches, honey and spices, whispers of what home should be. Grasping that feeling and pulling it to him, Shane replied, _It is, and I'm sorry. _His arms were grabbed and forced behind him; a harsh band of metal encircled his wrists and pulled them painfully together. Next to him, Nimrod received the same treatment.

"All right, hacker, you and the little clairvoyant come out now," the Queen ordered, a satisfied burr in her voice as she watched the Galaxy Rangers stand down and surrender. "And, that little stunt you pulled sending that message to BETA was all for not. My communications team intercepted it. There will be no help coming for you."

"She's lying," S'Kara whispered to Ranger Hartford as he helped her stumble to the foreground nearer to the Queen.

Doc heard her but didn't acknowledge her. Even if their transmission was successful, their current circumstances made it unlikely that they would be alive to benefit from it. Standing near to Gooseman and Nimrod, Doc felt the Rymean pulled from his supporting arm, and he was trussed as tightly and in the same way as his companions.

Two sets of rough hands dragged S'Kara away from the bound males. "You know, S'Kara, I hate to admit it, but you were right," the Queen said lightly, her face beaming with evil satisfaction as the outcome began to weigh heavily in her favor. "It would be a crime to waste all this potential. So, I think that I have come up with a delightful little plan to change all of that. You and Ranger Niko are indeed forces with which to be reckoned." The Queen looked at the subdued, human psychic. "Although, I must say, I am surprised by that realization. The Xanaduans taught you well, little one."

The Queen was pleased by the filtered looks flashing in the female ranger's eyes as the words hit home. The ranger struggled slightly and ended up causing the knife at her throat to bite into the delicate tissue drawing blood. "Uh uh uhn," the Queen tutted, "don't want to damage yourself before we're done.

"Your slavers shall destroy your companions-in-arms thus sealing all of your fates! Slaver masters," the Queen commanded haughtily, "make ready the chamber. Little S'Kara here has decided to go first."

S'Kara struggled as much as she could, but she was unable to break the grip of the guardsmen that threw her into the containment capsule of the psychocrystallization chamber. The ruddy filter of the glass distorted the auras by which the Rymean used to see, casting S'Kara not into a world of darkness but a world of hideous redness. Shaking with blindness, S'Kara flattened her palms on the red plate facing where she believed her salvation remained. Not knowing if the chamber would block her plea, she once again sent to Niko. _It is time._

_I can't; I don't have the strength._

_You must!_

_The others…_

_The others will help you._

Niko relaxed her body and then arched her back abruptly. The guard holding the knife at her throat had grown complacent as he watched the Queen's theatrics. When he had realized that he was injuring one of the Queen's most desired specimens, he had relaxed his pressure by mere centimeters. Niko's surprise attack left the guard completely vulnerable. Following her bucking of the guard backwards, Niko elbowed the unprotected underarm of his arm, which held the knife. The metal instrument clattered to the floor; the guard followed as Niko spun hitting him in the jaw with a well-placed kick.

The Queen had been so focused on her pet project, the psychocrypt, that she was unprepared for the psychic as well. Turning to face the ruckus, the Queen was surprised by the two sets of hands grasping her wrists in restraint. "Release me!" she commanded as the slaverlords of Zachary Foxx and RGelio held her fast.

"How? You!" the Queen hissed in contempt as she watched the psychic ranger approach. "You cannot possibly do this!"

"I can, and I am!" Niko replied her voice modulating as it spoke out loud and in everyone's heads.

The Queen sneered at Niko as she realized that indeed the psychic had taken control of her two prized slavers. Her entire scheme was unraveling before her eyes. "You can't keep this up for long. When you fail, I will destroy you."

Niko ignored the threat and turned to the slaver masters still waiting on the Queen's cue to pull the switch. "Release her," Niko commanded.

"No!" the Queen yelled, her voice cracking when the two slavers pulled her arms in different directions.

"If you wish for your Queen to remain in one piece, I suggest that you release S'Kara now!" Niko repeated, a cry of pain from the Queen highlighting her orders. The two slaver masters looked at one another and then complied. They moved to assist S'Kara out of the chamber.

The Queen of the Crown suddenly began laughing in delight. Niko turned her violet eyes to the Queen in irritation. "This is just too rich," she wheezed trying to catch her breath. "Do they even know?"

"I don't know what you are talking about," Niko snapped.

"My dear," the Queen smiled, her grin filled with malice, "You continue to surprise me. How does it feel consuming an essence for your own gain? Do you feel the power; taste the control?" Niko only looked askance at her.

"Oh, come now, tell them," the Queen implored. "They should know."

Niko said nothing.

"You have become just like me," the Queen gloated happily. "You are delving into all of their essences; aren't you? Taking what you want from Ranger Gooseman, Ranger Hartford, S'Kara, and even the fool, Nimrod. You didn't even ask."

Niko faltered, a look of horror decorating her face as she realized that she was indeed using her friends and companions to hold the Queen. The Queen needed only a moment's hesitation to pull free. She grabbed the two crystals from the slaverlords causing them to disperse. "I will not be held a prisoner by my own creations in my own home!" she declared hefting the two gems and chucking them high into the air toward the female ranger.

"Goose, Doc," Niko yelled in alarm as the two crystals rotated end over end in their decent to the floor. The force behind the throw would cause the gems to shatter if they hit the floor. Gooseman and Doc launched themselves to their feet. Because their hands were still secured behind them, the two rangers had to dive and slide under the crystals to make a cushion with their bodies between the crystals and the ground. Both rangers were successful as the gems safely landed onto their chests.

Seeing the psychocrystals safely situated, Niko turned her attention to the fleeing Queen.

"Not so fast," she snarled, halting the Queen's movement and spinning her around telekinetically. "You still have something that belongs to us."

The Queen resisted as the ranger physically pulled her back to the front of the platform. She watched in horror as the prized gem of Eliza Foxx was ripped from the hidden pocket within her royal vestments. "No," she denied, grabbing the floating crystal in her hands and throwing a psychokinetic block. "Eliza Foxx is mine!"

"Not anymore," Niko growled and wrenched the crystal from her grip. The Queen launched her own offensive grasping the gem in her own telekinetic force. A silent tug of war took place resulting in a stalemate of wills, neither gaining nor giving ground.

The Queen felt the ranger begin to tremble with effort. "Are you going to take more from your friends? You will have to if you wish to beat me."

Niko's eyes flashed deep purple pushing the Queen back with her anger and life force-enhanced psionics. The Queen began perspiring from effort to hold her ground. A trickle of greenish blood dripped from her left nostril. "You are more like me than you are willing to admit."

Furiously, Niko swiped at her own blood dripping down her face. "I am nothing like you!" The ranger felt an inaudible pop under her left ear. Her telekinetic hold on Eliza's crystal dissolved, and the Queen's extra telekinetic force slammed the crumpling ranger halfway across the room.

"Niko!" Goosman roared as he saw the psychic fall. The bonds that held his arms behind him creaked as the super trooper flexed his muscles breaking the restraints in two. His own blood coursed down his hands from the broken metal biting into his skin, but he was so intent on making it to Niko's side that he paid little heed to it.

The Queen bent down and scooped up the crystal containing the rest of Eliza Foxx's life force. Her war with the rangers had almost cost her, her most prized possession. Wiping away the last traces of blood from her face, the Queen turned and fled through the hidden back door of the room. Knowing that she had little time to make her exit and taking solace in the crystals that she had amassed on her ship, the Queen vowed that the Galaxy Rangers would be terminated. The psychic little bitch had almost cost her everything. The psychocrypt would be too good for them. Their days were numbered; all the days of Earth's residents and those of Ryman IV were numbered.

A klaxon-warning bell began to clang shrilly as an impact of heavy artillery fire shook the asteroid. A hailing demand rang through the intercoms. "This is the League of Planets ship, Hidalgo. Release your shields as a sign of surrender, and we will disengage our attack. Any other action will be deemed as an act of war and appropriate measures will be taken," a voice bellowed, brooking no arguments.

"Doc," Gooseman shouted finally dropping next to the downed, female ranger.

"I'm on it," Doc replied as S'Kara grabbed a laser pistol to free Ranger Hartford and Nimrod from their shackles.

Nimrod embraced S'Kara hard. The Rymean could feel the ambivalence radiating from her cousin. "Go," she whispered in understanding. "You have no choice. Be safe." Nimrod gave an extra squeeze to his cousin. Brushing the hair away from her face in a gentle swipe almost as if memorizing her face, the Leonid stepped back and made his escape from the chamber room.

"Niko," Shane grated as he pulled the psychic into his arms and brushed away the blood trickling from her nose and eyes. "Niko, can you hear me?" Desperately, the super trooper stretched seeking some sign of life from the woman. No sign of breathing, no beat from her heart reached his ears, but the thing that frightened him the most was the emptiness that returned to him from his inexperienced attempt to reach her telepathically. Wasting no more time, the super trooper began life-sustaining measures.

Finishing his relay to the Hidalgo, Doc moved next to S'Kara. They both stood silently watching as the super trooper began compressions and rescue breathing. "Dear God," the ranger muttered softly, "please hurry." S'Kara offered her own prayer to her goddess as she continued trying to mend the hemorrhaging psyche of the female ranger with her own psychic healing energies.


	13. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

**182 - 2105**

Zachary Foxx walked haltingly down a path to a bench hidden almost completely by the dappled shade of a large tree. He had no idea what kind the tree it was, but he was grateful for the shelter from the overhead sun. The weather had been mocking him for days. It seemed that the meteorological gurus had decided that sunshine and temperatures near 20º C would be the norm. The only rain that had fallen had been a light sprinkle at night when most of the inhabitants slept. Zachary knew because he had watched the droplets slide down his windowpane in those very wee hours.

Sleep had not been something he had indulged in more than a few hours here and a few hours there. The doctors that still monitored him on a daily basis did not seem alarmed by the captain's apparent insomnia. Given the amount of time his body had been in stasis in the psychocrypt, they surmised that his circadian rhythms would be erratic for some time. They didn't know the real reasons, and Zachary kept his peace. He wanted to return to active duty as quickly as possible. He had an agenda, and a lengthy medical leave was difficult enough; a psych evaluation would just make it even longer.

He knew the average psychologist would label him with posttraumatic stress disorder and who knows what else. If he divulged that he didn't sleep because his wife came to him at night to beg for her release from the Queen of the Crown, he would be put behind a desk indefinitely. A captain suffering from such delusions would be a liability. And, BETA needed all of the able-bodied men and women they could find if they were going to defend Earth from the army of slaverlords the Queen of the Crown had amassed from the Rymeans. Although she had yet to act, it was only a matter of time.

A piece of the concrete bench broke off into his left hand. _Damn,__still not right. We're going to have to modulate the bionics again._ Pulverizing the chunk to dust, he released the fine particles and watched them swirl lazily to blend into the crushed rock path beneath his feet. An aroma of roses drifted across the quiet park. Zachary closed his eyes and inhaled the scent. _Eliza loves these. _His thoughts drifted down a tangent that he was reluctant to break. Ever since he had "seen" Eliza in the crypt, Zachary had stopped trying to block out his memories of her. He needed the fresh pain to stay focused.

Although the doctors had claimed Eliza's presence had been a construct of his mind, a coping mechanism he had created to survive the fracture of his mind from his body, he knew better, and he would never again allow himself to think of her as just sleeping in the cryochamber.

A soft hand touched his shoulder bringing Zachary back to the present. "May I?" a quiet voice asked indicating the empty space on the bench.

Zachary nodded his assent, and S'Kara slid to sit next to him. "It is beautiful," she whispered, her voice low as to not break the beauty encased in solitude of their location.

Zachary looked into the glazed eyes of the female Rymean and smiled sadly. "Yes," he agreed, matching her solemn tone. "I see that you decided against the bionic eyes."

A light smile graced S'Kara's lips as she continued to take in the atmosphere in front of her. "You humans are very particular about that sense," she noted wryly. "Surprisingly, I don't miss it very much. If I had taken the bionics, I would lose most of my abilities to see auras. The sense would be taken up trying to interpret the signals of the bionics. It is a price I refuse to pay." Sniffing the air, she changed topics, "What is that wonderful smell? Is it a flower?"

"Yes," Zachary answered, "They are roses. They were…_are_ Eliza's favorite."

S'Kara nodded in response to his answer, and Zachary found himself expounding on not only the rose itself but of Eliza's preference. He talked about how she preferred the old English variety to the new hybrid teas even though she had admitted that the hybrid fragrances were superior. How she had planted a garden of rose bushes the first year of their marriage and nurtured them to be big, beautiful plants only to have some deer eat them to the ground the first day they bloomed. "I thought she might take my laser pistol and go after the rose thieves herself," Zachary laughed as he remembered his wife's anger and sadness at the nubs of the remaining plants. "But, then she saw a little fawn and changed her mind." Zachary's cheerfulness dipped back into melancholy as his mind fast-forwarded to the present.

"You will see her again," S'Kara promised.

Zachary shook himself from his mood and regarded his companion. "I know," he agreed simply. "What of RGelio?"

S'Kara shook her head. "He is in the stasis, cryogenic chamber with the other Rymeans. But, his crystal is so badly fractured that your scientists don't know if they will ever be able to free him. And, if they ever find a mechanism to do so, I'm not sure it would be the RGelio I know."

"We spoke," Zachary began, noting that S'Kara didn't even flinch at the revelation. "But, you already knew that; didn't you?"

"It was logical to expect."

"He had changed."

"Yes, to someone I did not recognize."

"Perhaps," Zachary agreed, "But in the end, I believe into someone of whom you would have been proud to know, to love."

"My love for him was never at issue." Though her choice of words was harsh, the sense she conveyed was acceptance laced with sadness.

"No, it wasn't. S'Kara, he knew that he wasn't going to be returning to you soon. He knew that his existence had been forever changed. While I know he regretted the choices he made working with the Queen, I want you to know, he never regretted placing himself in the line of fire to save you."

"Is it hideous?"

Zachary wasn't sure how to answer her question. "It was difficult," he answered, seeking a way to give her solace.

"Captain Foxx, you cannot hide the truth from a clairvoyant. Please don't attempt to spare my feelings."

Zachary nodded his head. "My wife has been caught in limbo for more than three years. Her existence in the psychocrypt has been nothingness. I cannot think of a worse fate."

S'Kara bent her head as she accepted the ranger's words. "Thank you," she whispered softly and rose to her feet. "I will leave you to your thoughts."

"S'Kara, wait." Zachary stopped the female with a gentle hand on her arm. "What are your plans?"

"I am going home to Ryman IV. My home is devastated from the Queen's raids as well as from the resulting violence that stemmed from the actions of the former Clan Council. I have agreed to be part of the new Clan Federation. We are going to rebuild."

"The Queen is still a threat."

"Yes, and that is why I must go. We may not be much of a civilization anymore, but we will not surrender to her either."

"The League of Planets has offered its support?"

"Yes, and we gladly accept its generosity."

"From what RGelio told me, the League is not blameless in this tragedy either."

"Don't worry, Captain Foxx, I am well aware of the pawns and masters in this plot. But, we can all rest assured that out of this adversity, the Queen has united us all."

"I will see you again," Zachary promised.

"Yes," S'Kara replied and surprised the human by quickly embracing him. Feeling a kinship with the female, Zachary gently kissed her brow in response. "Until then, be well, Captain Foxx," she whispered and pulled away from him to walk the path back to Longshot's cryogenic facility.

Zachary took another look at the botanical gardens sprawling in front of his bench. Absentmindedly, he scratched at the bioskin that was beginning to heal under his left ear. A new implant had replaced the overtaxed, original Series Five implant. Taking a deep breath of the rose-infused air, he stood. _One more trip to see Eliza and then back to BETA,_ he decided and began picking his way along the same path S'Kara had traveled.

-----------------

"That should do it," Ranger Hartford announced to Q-Ball as he pulled the main component from what was left of the original portable recharging unit.

"I think so," the bald scientist agreed, removing his trademark yellow goggles and wiping the lens with a cloth. "You should run an additional check, though, and we'll need to study the nanotech as well to get a better understanding of the Queen's enhanced programs."

Pulling out his new CDU, Doc activated his badge and punched in the codes of Pathfinder and Tripwire. Two iridescent sparkles of energy floated around his head. "You heard the man," Doc responded, pointing the two programs to an access port in one of the main diagnostic computers. "Have at it."

"All right," whooped Pathfinder sliding into the port.

"I'm on it, Doc," chirped Tripwire as it too disappeared.

"So," Q-Ball coughed discreetly, "Is it true that Nimrod the Cat was part of all of this?"

Doc's nose wrinkled in distaste, and he unconsciously fingered the white bandage poking from the collar of his uniform. He had not quite decided what the Leonid's role had been in the entire scheme, and even though Nimrod had helped them when the odds were stacked against them, he still wasn't sure how he felt about the felinoid. "All I know is that somehow Nimrod was able to bypass BETA security and access this facility, _your_ facility," Doc countered, highlighting the word to make his point. Q-Ball had the decency to look uncomfortable. "He doped the recharging unit and started this whole mess."

"But, he helped you against the Queen; you struck a bargain with him."

"He helped with the Queen," Doc granted, glancing at his handheld computer to check on the progress of his two programs. "Not like he had much of a choice. She was planning to kill him. And, yes, I granted him immunity, but he knew that wouldn't hold up in a World Federation hearing either. The cat is smart. He took off as soon as he could."

"So, is he on our side or what?" Q-Ball prompted.

"I can't answer that," Doc replied honestly. Both Tripwire and Pathfinder returned at that moment, distracting the computer genius as they uploaded data into his handheld. "Looks like the new unit is clean. I have the security tapes of the night in question. We'll need to fix this entry point here," Doc pointed. Q-Ball nodded and began working on increasing the security measures that Tripwire had found lacking. "As for Nimrod," Doc continued his train of thought, "All we really know for sure, is that he is on his own side. The bigger question is whether or not _we're_ on that particular side."

-----------------

Gooseman rearranged himself on the uncomfortable chair in the corner of Niko's hospital room. He had taken up residence in the recovery room once the psychic had been moved from ICU. While her prognosis had been upgraded, she had yet to regain consciousness.

A nurse quietly knocked on the door as she entered to check on the fluids and update the chart. "Ranger Gooseman," she smiled looking at the young man who had become almost a fixture in the room.

Goose smiled back with a friendly look in his eyes at the pretty, young woman. "Hey, Nancy," he greeted. "Any changes?"

"She's still improving," Nancy replied jotting a few notes on the chart before moving to change out the IV fluid bag attached to Niko's right arm.

The nurse had not told him anything Shane could not tell himself. He had seen Niko's color improving and had been pleased when he arrived that morning to see that she no longer needed the tube to help her breathe. It had been replaced by an oxygen cannula.

"She began fighting the ventilator last night, so we extubated. Her vitals are looking better, and I dare say there is some color in her cheeks today. Now, if we could just get her to open her eyes and talk to us." The young nurse bent over and readjusted the brace aligning Niko's re-reduced left shoulder.

Shane didn't reply as he looked at the psychic who by all intents and purposes appeared to be simply sleeping. Nancy finished her work, taking a good look at the incision mark where the implant had been removed. Applying a fresh bandage to the site, Nancy looked wistfully at Ranger Gooseman and then quickly excused herself. She had seen the look in the young man's eyes before and knew there would be no further communicating with him. He had completely forgotten she was in the room. _Some girls get the guy, and some don't,_ she sighed to herself and headed to the next room to complete her duties.

Gooseman moved his chair to Niko's bedside and took her hand. He was careful not to jostle the IV line. Closing his eyes, he tried to reach her, hoping for even a slight telepathic caress back; just a whisper reminiscent of summer nights would have made all the difference. As it had each time he had tried, emptiness responded. Frustrated, Shane leaned back, still keeping a gentle but firm hold on her hand, and stared into her face.

She had scared him back on the asteroid. Even with the assistance of the medics from the Hidalgo, she didn't begin breathing on her own nor did her heart respond to the automatic defibrillator. They had had to do an emergency evacuation to the sickbay where the ship's doctor had had to perform emergency surgery to remove the Series Five implant that had all but ruptured in her head. The result had been two weeks of recovery and an apparent coma.

"Ranger Gooseman," a sharp but caring voice cut through Shane's reverie. The tone of the voice caused the super trooper to drop Niko's hand and stand to immediate attention. "Oh my," the woman's voice almost giggled, "I do seem to have that effect on you."

Recovering, Gooseman bowed to the older woman standing in the doorway. "Ariel," he greeted and pulled back the chair on which he had been seated to offer it to Niko's mentor. "Please."

"Dear boy," Ariel said, a fondness in her voice, "why are you always offering me a seat? Do you think I am too old to stand?"

"No," Shane responded quickly, his face reddening in embarrassment, "I was just being…"

"Polite," Ariel finished for him. "I know." Ariel ignored the chair and moved to the small lavatory to fill a vase with water. Plunking a bouquet of strange looking orchids ranging in shades from an ivory blue to an alabaster purple, she turned back around to peer not at Niko but at Gooseman. "What have you noticed?" she asked her bright blue eyes accentuated by a pair of almost lime green glasses perched on her nose and held without earpieces.

"Her color is better. They took her off the respirator. Other than her vitals getting stronger, she's made no progress."

"And, have you tried to reach her like I taught you?" Ariel quizzed.

Shane nodded, and Ariel could tell by the look on his face that he had been unsuccessful. "Don't give up hope, dear. She's been through a lot. Sometimes it takes a little more time to heal." Ariel patted his hand kindly and changed topics. "Did you eat?"

"Yes, ma'am," Shane replied. He had learned early on that Ariel would not tolerate martyrdom. His ears still burned from the scolding she had given him when she had first arrived at the BETA Medical Center. After establishing the condition of her protégé, she had turned her attention to the bedraggled rangers. She had forcible ejected Gooseman from the waiting room until he had showered, changed and been seen by a medic. Only a clean bill of health had granted him access to sit and wait for news of Niko's status with the eccentric Xanaduan.

"Well then, be a dear and get me a cup of that, what did you call it, oh yes, java."

Shane looked once more at the still Niko, and then complied with Ariel's request. "Cream and sugar," he grinned, stopping the gifted woman from completing her request.

"Indeed," Ariel beamed back. "You do learn quickly."

A muffled, "So, I've been told," reached her ears as the door blocked the ranger from her view. Sighing, Ariel moved to sit in the chair that Gooseman had offered her earlier. He was truly a special young man. Even without her psionic senses of him, she could see how smitten he was with Niko.

Releasing those thoughts from her mind, the teacher sent a gentle probe into her student's mind. Ariel's heightened awareness could see the repairs that the Rymean had attempted to make in Niko's fractured psyche. Those triage mental shields had done much to protect Niko. A subtle sense floated to the top of Ariel's awareness, and the Xanaduan felt herself relax in relief.

_Niko, dear child, it is I, Ariel._

_Ariel?_

_Yes, my dear. Come now, it is time to wake up. Show the world those beautiful eyes._

_I-I can't._

_You can, and you must!_

A soft moan greeted Ariel, and she discontinued her telepathic communication to look at Niko. Niko rolled her head slowly on the pillow and with great effort cracked her eyes open.

"Ariel," she croaked in greeting, her voice still raw from the airway tube.

"Hush now," Ariel admonished and reached over to let Niko take a sip of water from a cup with a straw that had been set on the bedside table. "I said to wake and show me your eyes, not speak."

Niko blinked tiredly and attempted to move. She immediately regretted the action as aches and pains made themselves at home in her returning consciousness.

"That is unadvisable as well."

The door to the room opened, and Shane stopped at the threshold unsure if his eyes were playing tricks on him. He felt a strange reassurance seep into his mind and took the step into the room that he had been beckoned to take. "Hey," he whispered as he looked into Niko's aquamarine eyes. "Didn't know you were up."

Niko said nothing, but a soft smile lit her face.

"Ahem, well then," Ariel interrupted and went to take her coffee from Gooseman. "Oh my," she exclaimed as the cup dropped to the floor spilling the contents all over.

"Ariel," Gooseman exclaimed. "I'm so sorry."

"Nonsense," replied the teacher as she used her mental powers to lift the liquid from the floor and deposit the mess into the lavatory. "It was completely my fault. You stay here and look after Niko. I'll go get another cup." Not waiting for a reply, Ariel quickly left the room.

Gooseman looked at Niko and then at the closed door. "She did that on purpose, you know."

Niko nodded her head in agreement and then winced at the unexpected pain. Reaching with her good arm, she touched a gauze dressing. "What happened," she rasped hoarsely.

Shane moved the collar of his civvies away from his neck and showed Niko a shiny line decorating the skin just under his left ear. "We all had our implants exchanged," he explained. "The nanotechnology that the Queen had used worked just as Doc had said. All of the Series Five implants were on the verge of malfunctioning."

"So they put new ones in?" Niko asked still a little hazy on the details.

"Sort of," Shane hedged, and at Niko's pleading look, he elaborated. "Zachary, Doc and I have new implants. They wanted to wait…"

"To see if I would live?" Niko asked, the venom in her words strangely lacking. "We certainly wouldn't want to waste the government's money on a lost cause."

"Niko," Goose sat down in Ariel's vacated chair before continuing. "Your implant took the most abuse. It basically fried while it was in your head. They aren't sure when they can replace the implant."

"When or if?"

Gooseman wasn't sure of the answer so he just stroked her hair out of her face. The strands of her auburn hair played through his fingers as a heavy silence weighed between them.

Finding her voice, Niko finally broke the silence. "I am just like her."

Gooseman looked hard into the psychic's face not sure at first what Niko meant. Then realization dawned actually making his heart hurt. He moved to sit directly on the bed next to her. "No."

"Yes," Niko affirmed attempting to quash the tears that suddenly seemed to stream from her eyes.

Ever so gently, Shane pulled the now sobbing psychic into his arms. "You are nothing like the Queen of the Crown," he repeated vehemently.

"But I am. I broke barriers. I entered your mind without permission. I stole from you, from Doc, even from S'Kara."

Shane's hands stroked down Niko's back and hair. "You didn't steal from us, Niko. We gave to you. You never would have taken something that we didn't freely give to you."

"I never asked."

"You didn't need to. Niko, we're Galaxy Rangers. You have used your implant to merge with all of ours before to save us. This was the same thing. We were never in danger from you. Hell, you saved us. If you hadn't acted, you and S'Kara would be slaverlords, and Doc and myself would be dead."

Refusing to listen to the super trooper, Niko shook her head against Shane's neck.

Goose pulled Niko away from him and hooked a finger under her chin to make her meet his eyes. A shade of orange mingled with the scents of leather, desert rain, coffee and a hint of cybersteed lubricant filled Niko's mind. _Without you, I would be dead._

Niko closed her eyes and allowed the feeling of Shane to wash through her. His words echoed in her mind, resonated with what she knew to be the truth. A wave of exhaustion caused her to sway, and she felt Shane pull her close. Warm lips touched her temple, and Niko fell back to sleep.

Peering through the portal of the door to Niko's room, Ariel looked at the couple embracing on the bed. A gentle smile graced her face. Now, perhaps, the healing could begin.

_--Fin—_

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**_ A/N: Thank you to everyone who read and reviewed. It truly keeps me motivated to continue writing as well as to reach further for the best story telling I can muster. I plan on a third story in this arc. It probably won't begin until after the summer as a lot of stuff is happening in real life right now. Keep an eye on the profile to see where things stand._**

**_A/N2: I am currently working on a one-shot of Niko to settle some of the aftermath of this story. Sidelined should be out sometime this summer. – Regards, RL_**


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